


Raspberry red

by scotchandwhitelies



Category: Black Panther (2018), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Bittersweet, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Growing Up Together, Nostalgia, Slow Burn, Small Towns, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:48:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 41,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22836544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scotchandwhitelies/pseuds/scotchandwhitelies
Summary: In a small town of the green mountain state where she’s sheltered and loved, Shuri navigates the challenges that come with growing up. And it’s no easy, especially when you’re a genius and you have a crush on the boy who used to be your babysitter.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Shuri, James "Bucky" Barnes/Shuri, Ramonda & Shuri (Marvel)
Comments: 68
Kudos: 84





	1. Heartbeat

**Author's Note:**

> Another deleted work from Summer 2019 I still hold dear. Kid Shuri is everything to me so I hope you'll be a lot to enjoy the story once again <3

Spring 1996

Shuri : 9

Bucky : 13

It doesn’t seem believable that a child could be having a stroke but as a science girl, Shuri knows the warning signs. Except no-one is in this household is willing to believe her, despite her mother being a doctor. The symptoms are there though and she’s been doing observations the whole day.

Her legs feel weaker than ever as she plops down on her mattress and lies on her back, eyes focusing to the ceiling fan. Dizziness is conquering her mind and her heartbeat elevates when the blades she’s staring at disappear and instead, a familiar face is being painted in her mind.

Shuri is having a stroke and It’s all because of _Bucky Barnes_.

As long as she can remember, Bucky has been part of her life. It’s easy after all, he lives down the street and Claremont is a small town. But Shuri doesn’t even like Bucky. Not so much. She _tolerates_ him and he doesn’t like her lots either. Once, she’s heard him say to Steve Rogers he was sick of having her following him around like a baby duck. Sick of having to babysit her. Shuri thinks it's because he’s jealous. At the Claremont Elementary School, Mrs Potts says she’s a young bright thing. Shuri knows Bucky is not very bright and on top of that, he’s fat. Her mother doesn’t like when Shuri says that. She doesn’t understand why her mother doesn’t like facts when it comes to people. Facts don’t care about people. Science doesn’t either and Shuri trusts it the most. 

Bucky is fat. And he’s poor. Facts. He misses school a lot and most of his wardrobe is second-handed. Facts. His father is Russian and dead. Another fact. 

* * *

The stroke gets worse when she’s near Bucky but her mother doesn’t wanna hear any of it. Tonight, she’ll be having dinner with the baker, Mr Wong and Bucky will cross the street to come look after her. Shuri likes Mr Wong but if she had to choose between saving him and his raspberry macaroons, her mother wouldn’t have a boyfriend anymore. Though It’s not very smart of her. No. She’d have to save Mr Wong. She wants him to keep making those macaroons because cooking doesn’t look fun. 

Her mother smells good. She’s wearing a red dress and everywhere she goes, she leaves something sweet and spicy that tickles Shuri’s nostrils. 

“Mama, why do you look like a woman ?”, Shuri tosses when Ramonda fixes her earrings, watching her reflection in the mirror atop the marble chimney. Shuri tilts her head. Her mother has not gone out for a long time. Since Baba has left with Shuri's previous babysitter, two years ago. Her name was Aneka and Shuri’s mama has not hired a female babysitter ever since.

Now, even her mama’s lips are red. It’ s pretty. Shuri loves pretty things. Like perfect squares.

Ramonda giggles. “That’s a way of saying a compliment, dearest !”

Shuri shrugs. “Red looks good on you, mama.”

Her mama smiles and draws near to kiss the top of her curls. It’s a bit sticky and Shuri can’t help but check for lipstick leftovers on her forehead. Her fingers are smudged with red then and she scrunches her nose in annoyance.

The doorbell rings. It’s Bucky. Shuri thinks he’s a bit surprised her mama looks like a girl too because his eyes go big. Bucky is thirteen now and he’s taller than the last time she saw him. Yesterday. When he came at their doorstep to give back her Gameboy Color. It shouldn’t be possible.

Shuri is not happy with this so she scowls and doesn’t leave her place, keeping her eyes glued to the television screen. She hates things that doesn’t make sense.

“Hello, _Sugarpie_ ”, Bucky tosses as her mama accompanies him to the living room. Even if he doesn’t need to. He knows the house by heart now.

She hates that nickname but for some reason, something flutters in her belly and she smiles. Bucky’s eyes are blue. Facts. But they look more blue than they did yesterday. Shuri is not happy with this either so she tells him.

“What did you do to your eyes ?”

He raises his brows and joins her on the couch.

“Nothin’.”

“Liar. Your eyes are blue !”

“Shuri. They’re always blue. I don’t have another pair”, he jokes.

When she moves to stretch his skin and inspect his eyeballs, wanting to see closer for herself, her mother slaps her hands away from Bucky. He is too stunned to react.

“Don’t be rude !”, Ramonda admonishes. “I am sorry, Bucky. I don’t know what she’s done putting into her little brain again.”

Another doorbell ring. Small talk. Sermons. And then, her mama is off. It’s just her and Bucky now. She feels a lot less dizzy but he still makes her confused. Shuri hates being confused.

* * *

“I want another pair”, she says when It’s around nine pm and Bucky takes the remote to turn off Nickelodeon.

“ _Of what_ ?”, he asks, giving a little wheezing sound. She doesn’t get what’s so funny about her question so she stares at him with a dead-eyed expression while he sobers and purses his lips.

His hair is longer now. It looks soft. So soft she wants to stroke it. Mama says she’s been very mean to Bucky before so she has to make amends. Shuri wonders if he has enough hair for her to put butterfly clips in it now.

“Eyes. Your eyes are very pretty, Bucky.”

That makes him freeze and then a flush creeps up his neck before conquering his entire face. He mumbles something she doesn’t understand and averts his gaze.

“I want the same”, Shuri adds. He giggles and picks up the discarded bags of Cracker Jack left on the table. He disappears out of her view to put them in the trash while she tries to put her heart to rest. Her body reacts to Bucky and It’s weird. She’ll have to do more research soon. Maybe even an experiment.

“Coming from you, It sounds a little terrifying”, he tosses when he comes back to the living room, his fists on his round hips while he towers over her.

“Why ?”

He shrugs. “There is so much things going on in your funny little brain I feel like you’re going to kill me in my sleep and steal my eyeballs now.”

“Yuck ! What would I do of my own eyes if I stole yours ?!”, she exclaims, nose scrunched in annoyance.

“Sell them on the black market”, Bucky says immediately before wincing. “Oops. I take that back."

He pulls a little on his T-shirt. “Do you think your mom would mind If I used the computer ?”

Shuri thinks of the little furnished space between the ground-floor and the first-floor. The rules say no screen after nine pm. But Shuri likes experiments. 

“She won’t mind if It’s for schoolwork”, she replies.

Bucky deflates a little but ends up shrugging and declines her offer to cover for him.

* * *

“Is there another reason why you want blue eyes ?”, Bucky asks her when they’re in her bedroom. He’s juggling with her magic 8 ball, lying on a soft, purple rug while she’s swinging in her suspended chair.

She rocks for another second before answering.

“Blue eyes are pretty”, she says.

Bucky stops his juggling then and he looks in her direction with a little frown.

“You think your eyes aren’t pretty ?”

Shuri shrugs. “My eyes are _convenient_.”

He lies on his sides now.

“Your eyes are pretty, Shuri.”

She chews on her bottom lip then.

“Is this about the Snow White Gate again ?”, Bucky asks. She rolls her eyes as prettily as she can. Two years ago, Mrs Potts thought it would be more fair to stop having the same kids in lead roles for the Christmas Production so they had to do a random draw, leaving the only dark skinned girl in the classroom to be picked as Snow White. That’s how Shuri learned the definition of _shame_ in second grade.

Bucky and her have called it the Snow White Gate ever since.

Shuri shakes her head. “Nah. I like my skin. But I like blue eyes as well.”

He nods and sighs in relief.

“Cool. It’s great to to like your body.”

“Because you don’t ?”, she asks, her rocking coming to a halt, legs dangling over the chair.

Bucky shrugs as much as he possibly can.

“It’s not cool to hear people say pretty eyes are lost on a fatty.”

“You’re not fat, Bucky, you’re just chubby”, she protests.

It earns him a sincere smile and Shuri feels the stroke coming back with a full force. She sucks in a breath and tries to think of perfect squares to steady her body’s reactions.

“Your mama taught you well”, he snickers. “You know, one day, I’m going to be so big and strong people can’t tell me anything.”

“Me too. I want to become big and strong too.”

“But you can’t Shuri.”

“Why ?”

“You know better than me. Genetics, remember ?”

She squints her eyes at him then.

“I can be strong anyway.”

“Not physical strong maybe. But you have a big mouth and an even bigger brain for someone so tiny. It could work as your super strength.”

They both stare at her ceiling and the constellations depicted there for minutes.

“I’m going to become strong and get out of this town. And when I come back, people will finally respect me and my mom”, Bucky grits, breaking the silence.

Shuri whips her head at him.

“How are you going to do that ?”

“Become a soldier of course.”

“You won’t impress a lot of people if you die”, she replies immediately.

Bucky furrows his brows. “Easy there, smartass. I have it all figured out.”

He proceeds to tell her how years from now, Sergeant Barnes will show up at Sharon Carter’s doorstep and whisk her away. She’s the mayor’s niece, all blonde hair and pretty blue eyes. And she’s always nice to everyone, unlike Shuri. Her heart pangs a little and she scratches her chest like it could fix the sudden pain.

“Bucky ?”

“Mmh ?”

“If you come back from war someday, could you...could you show at my doorstep _first_ ?”

She watches as he scrambles to get back to a sitting position. The movement is simple but it already leaves him out of breath. She thinks of saying he should slim before nursing some ridiculous dreams about the military but nips her tongue to keep from hurting. Bucky would never be this mean to her.

“I will”, he simply says and It’s like someone’s put a very warm blanket over her shoulders.

“Promise ?”

“Promise.”

After a slow nod, Shuri gets an idea and leaps out of her chair to find a clean notebook and a pen in her drawers. He watches her with a confused expression the whole time, even when she plants herself like a tree in front of him and hands them to him. Bucky softly drops the magic 8 ball.

“Thanks but what are you giving me those for ?”

Shuri lifts her eyes to the ceiling with an annoyed huff. Why is everyone so slow ? It’s obvious. She doesn’t want his words to be empty air. They need to be sealed. In her ideal world, she’d get Bucky to carve his promise in marble as if Shuri were some sort of Roman imperator. But she’s on a budget so a handwritten vow would do. For now. 

“You need to put it on paper ! _Like a contract_.”

Since he keeps staring with the same confused expression, Shuri kneels and rips a page from her notebook. She chews her lip in concentration, channeling those lone afternoons when she’d read the terms and conditions of any appliance in the kitchen. She scrambles a quick paragraph then stretches her hand so he grabs the paper. He does so with mild reluctance. Enough to make her temper flare.

Shuri crosses her arms while he reads their contract aloud and his lips tremble. 

“This is a contract made between Shuri Udaku and Bucky Buchanan Barnes for the sale of a visit following his takeoff from the US army…”, he says, shoulders twitching with mirth.

“Why are you smiling ? This is serious.”

“Sorry sugarpie. But Bucky Buchanan Barnes is not my real name.”

Her eyes go so big they almost pop out. And she lets out an undignified croak. 

“B-but everyone calls you Bucky all the time ?!”

He does that infuriating lift of his shoulders and Shuri is annoyed enough to grip both his round shoulders so he doesn’t move. She hates being confused. Her ears must be as red as a crayfish now.

“They do. Only cause my mom hates to use James on me.”

Bucky looks a little sad just then, so her grasp on his loosen and she wretches the document away from his hands instead. James. It would be weird calling Bucky like that. It doesn’t suit him at all. She looks down with a frown before her features soften as she gets another idea. Contracts are not the end all of all promises. She knows. People promise to love each other forever but they can still end their union with a divorce. Just like her baba and mama.

“What about a blood oath? Or a tattoo ?”, she suggests with an earnest expression. 

Bucky sighs. “What kind of shit is that ? Do you go at the Godfather Elementary School now ?”

“But Bucky…”

“No. You wouldn’t want to get an infection right ?”

She shakes her head, mouth open in a quiet gasp.

“You can trust me anyway. _I’m your friend_ ”, he says, searching for eyes until she finds an anchor in his baby blues.

It’s the first time she’s ever heard Bucky call her like that and her heart soars with joy. Shuri is happy emotions can’t take physical appearances as well because there’ll be a whole mariachi band playing in her bedroom otherwise.


	2. Pulse

It takes Shuri a few years to really put an accurate word on her feelings but she eventually comes around. When she’s just shy of being a real teenager while Bucky is becoming a man of his own. Her mother still relies on Bucky to look after her on the few nights outs she allows herself and It doesn’t take a genius to understand Ramonda is mostly doing so out of concern for him. She’s always had a soft spot for Bucky. The kid was the first to give her family a warm welcome into the neighborhood. Shuri was only a toddler then.

Bucky doesn’t visit that much these days. Shuri resents him a little for that but he’s older now and she knows he’s working part time at the Van Dyne garage already. Been doing so as soon as he got his driver’s license. She really misses the time of them stuffing their mouths with Cracker Jack in front of a VHS tape every friday.

Her eyes run over a sheet of paper she’s teared off her notebook. Ned. Peter. MJ. It’s a small guest list but Shuri doesn’t have a lot of friends anyway. Most people don’t share her obsession with science. She’s felt lonely for a long time before meeting these three. People were fond of her as a kid speaking like an adult but nowadays, the few times she tries to correct her teachers only earns her the teacher’s pet stamp from idiot students or disapproving scowls from said idiot teachers.

Shuri leans back against her chair, fingers itching to scribble _his_ name. Apparently, she’s not doing a good job at hiding her emotions because her mother dries her hands and leans against the sink to study her with a conniving smile.

“How are things turning out with this birthday party ?”

Shuri sighs without glancing back at her mother.

“You wanna invite him right, _Intombi_ ?”, Ramonda says as she draws near Shuri, her hand caressing the baby hairs on her daughter’s neck. Shuri’s shoulders raise upward at the feel of lasting water droplets.

“Mama”

“Stop whining. Tomorrow morning is your turn for chores by the way”, her mother says, wriggling her fingers beneath the collar of Shuri’s shirt. Shuri giggles in spite of herself before putting on a frown.

“I won’t invite him.”

Ramonda hums. “You sure ?”

Shuri shrugs. “He won’t come anyway. We haven’t had a movie night in ages.”

“Well, Bucky is a young man. It makes sense for him to prefer the company of his peers now.”

Shuri keeps her mouth shut at that. There goes the core of her problem. Bucky is popular now. He’s gone from being a poor, overweight kid to a tall and sturdy boy that is almost the sole breadwinner of his household. It never fails to irk her to catch glimpses of him surrounded by pretty girls. Especially the ones he drops off in the neighborhood. When her brain goes into overdrive at night, she sits on her window sill and watches his pick up truck across the road.

She likes Bucky. She’s not sure. _It’s so frustrating not to know_. Shuri has known about the solar system since she was three. Learnt to read at four. Memorized the periodic table at six. MJ says she has a crush on Bucky. MJ is completely wrong because It’s not a crush. It’s a cataclysm and Bucky is a threat to Shuri’s genius. Cortisol mixed with oxytocyn and Shuri has to win this war against her treacherous hormones.

“I’ve got my list finalized”, she blurts out.

Her tone is clipped, final. She doesn’t dare meet her mother’s eyes, avoiding the concern and disappointment in them. She deposits the silver pen on the table before making a run for the stairs, seeking the comfort of her bedroom. Her pager still stands on her pillow. She checks it mindlessly, sighing when reading a message from her father. He’s suggested her a two-week vacation to New-York but she’s not ready to yet. Knowing he left her mother for her previous baby-sitter is a thing, visiting them is another. It would feel like betraying her mom again.

* * *

It’s ridiculously ordinary the way puberty hits her.

Dark red droplets slide down her thighs onto the navy blue and stone floor of the bathroom, right after she finishes her shower. Shuri watches its progress with a mix of curiosity and dread. She doesn’t panic, of course. _A breaking down of her uterus caused by an unfertilized egg._ That’s all it is about. Her mother had this talk with her before. There’s even a little thrill there because that means she is on her way to be a grown up. She cleans up after herself with medical attention before rummaging the drawers beneath the ceramic washbasin.

Putting on her first pad is a bit of an unexpected challenge. Shuri nearly feels like a young rider trying her best to handle a reluctant horse- sticky lapels pasting against themselves instead of soundly resting against her panties- so she sighs loudly when she’s done, and looks at her reflection intently while she washes her hands.

She’s _changed_. And yet, she’s still the same. Another cause for frustration and Shuri hates being frustrated.

Somehow, she expects people to look at her different the following day, when she roams across the school’s hallway and clutches the straps of her backpack with a vice grip. They don’t though and she’s both relieved and a little tickled that no one is paying her any attention, not even her best friends, especially when her mama shared the news with auntie Christine and the older woman insisted on visiting soon to shower her with gifts. She even praised Shuri about becoming a _woman_.

Is she really becoming one though ?

Shuri glares at the mosquito bites that hinder her femininity while she washes her hands in the school’s toilets. Nature is unfair. Almost every woman on her mama’s side has heavy breasts, some heavy enough to knock someone down. Shuri hears her mom complain about back pain sometimes but she wishes for the blessing of big boobs anyway. Boobs _make_ grown ups.

She’s pondering over that while another girl emerges from a stall. She’s a little dumpy, a head of unruly curls framing her indifferent face. For some reason, Shuri lingers as discreetly on the girl’ s boobs, or lack thereof, before looking back at her own with a relieved sigh.

It’s when the girl pulls out lipstick out of her jeans that a metaphorical bulb sizzles in her brain.

* * *

“What the hell ?”, Bucky says when he picks her up in front of the school gates around 3 pm, on her mama’s demand. He’s shaking his head like he’s a very disappointed single dad and Shuri almost hangs her own in shame. She lifts her chin in a burst of audacity when she slides in his pick up truck and bends to put her backpack in between her legs. For someone who’s still considering a military career, Bucky is really messy. There’s a small bundle of clothes hindering the comfort of the passenger seat and what looks like a three days old pizza box in the back seat when she looks over her shoulder.

“Your mother is furious”, he grumbles.

“I know.”

“ _Really furious_. Half of what she said to me was in Xhosa and even if I don’t understand it, I think I got the sentiment.”

Shuri fakes nonchalance and shrugs, though her heart drums against her ribcage and the last thing she wants to do is coming home. So she focuses on the sound of wheels rolling against the asphalt to steady her heartbeat. She knows Ramonda got a call from the principal’s office about her putting on makeup. Something her mom forbid her to do until she gets in high school. It’s a small boundary to break though. Shuri doesn’t get why everyone is acting so offended by it.

Bucky sighs and leans close enough for their shoulders to brush. She holds her breath when the hairs on his arms graze and tickle her smooth skin. Once he gets what he wants from the gloves compartment, he hands it to her.

Shuri purses her lips.

“I’ve already cleaned my face.”

“Then you didn’t do a great job at it because I can still see red on your lips sugarpie.”

“It’s stupid to try to clean a dry surface with another dry surface”, Shuri counters, crossing her arms.

Bucky huffs in annoyance before grasping his water bottle and wetting the tissue. Then he leans closer, close enough for her to smell his clean sweat and something like oil, tucks her chin in between his fingers, which feel rugged, and wipes off the pigments staining her mouth under her disbelieving stare. Shuri almost feels her bony knees knock against each other as she trembles.

“There”, he says with a smile, still holding her chin in between his calloused fingertips. “Cute as a button.”

Shuri slaps his hands then. She doesn’t wanna be called cute. Wants to be treated as her grown up. Doesn’t understand why Bucky lingers on Sharon’s face when she wears pretty red lips but when Shuri dolls up, he takes it off.

* * *

Around a week later, Ramonda asks her to bring a box of cupcakes to Bucky’s house. Shuri’s heart practically jumps in her throat at the idea. She’s known Bucky for years but he never invites her other these days. So she tosses the earbuds of her disc player away before kicking her feet, barging out of her bedroom. Her mother shakes her head with fond exasperation before pointing to the box of moist, sugary cupcakes resting on the kitchen table with a nod. She has not seen Bucky since her mother grounded her after the red lips fiasco.

“There’s an emergency at the practice so don’t wait on me for dinner, okay ?”

“Okay.”

“By dinner, I mean something full of nutrients. No lunchables. No crackers.”

“No promises then”, Shuri replies, the smart-ass reply earning her a gentle swat to the back of the head.

A faint breeze titillates the trees boarding the road, excited kids compete each other by cycling back and forth on the lane under the watchful eye of their family and the door to the Barnes house isn’t locked, like most houses in the neighborhood on a hot, summer day. Nothing ever happens in these streets anyway.

Shuri looks around a bit as she steps inside, frowning at the cluttering of cans and empty packages. Even squats down to pick up a dirty shirt before hanging it on the back of a chair. The clear picture of germs fluttering under her microscope immediately invades her mind and Shuri has to shake her head to repel the thought.

She still feels a little electricity down her spine when she catches the sound of Bucky’s voice. It’s low and raspy now but she could recognize that slavic drawl anywhere, even when he’s speaking English. There’s a feminine voice as well. Whiney and desperate. Shuri has not taught Russian to herself yet so the only signs she can read are the hunch of the woman’s shoulders and his closed off expression, thanks to the half-opened kitchen door. There’s a glass of water in front of her and a few pills.

She cannot distinguish more because Bucky catches her peeking and immediately walks in her direction.

Sucking in a breath, she steps backwards. Bucky closes the door after him and watches her like she’s an alien. Maybe she is an alien to his life. Maybe that’s why Bucky never invited her over. He didn’t want her to see.

“Hey, sugar-pie. You peeking now ?”

There is no resentment to his voice, just genuine concern painted all over his face. He threads his fingers through long, chocolate locks that give him a bit of a bohemian look. Nervously pulls the hem of his dark, Nirvana shirt. He’s not as big as he was before but Shuri feels like he’s taking the entire space in the corridor. Like he’s sucking breath out of her own lungs to fill his because she’s a bit short of breath now.

Shuri nearly punches the cupcakes in his chest, standing still, waiting for him to hold the box properly. Their fingers brush against each other in the process and she feels the same symptoms all over again.

Bucky arches an eyebrow, his lips stretching into a small smile.

“So you cooked for me huh ?”

“I don’t cook.”

“But cooking is chemistry.”

She shrugs and crosses her arms defensively. “Mama sends this to you”, she replies with a laconic voice, though her cheeks feel hot as branding iron.

“Your mother is a national treasure. Tell her I said thanks”, Bucky says after opening the box.

“Tell her yourself, duh.”

Bucky chuckles before drawing near the living room, dropping the cupcakes on the coffee table. His eyes go a little cold at the clutter and he sighs, hand running through his hair again. Shuri has half a mind to tell him to stop torturing his hair cuticles. Though she is way more preoccupied with the swell of his broad back than the mess right now.

“Sorry. I had a late shift yesterday and didn’t catch up on the chores.”

“It’s okay”, she lies. Then, her mind takes her to the old lady in the kitchen. She watches intently as Bucky picks up discarded clothes before folding them over his arm.

“Who is she ?”

That makes him stop in his tracks.

“ _What_ ?”

“The woman in your kitchen. With gray hair and a puffy face. Is she family ?”, Shuri insists.

A myriad of emotions roam Bucky’s face. He settles for a contrite smile before bending his sturdy body to pick up a long sleeved shirt.

“Shuri. That’s my mom.”

“You’re kidding” is her immediate response. But she keeps it to herself and blinks at Bucky in silence instead. In her memories, Bucky’s mother is a beautiful woman with hair that looks more like gold threads than keratin. And she’s skinny. That was even a recurring point in the words of Bucky’s bullies. The irony of a woman with model measurements popping out an overweight kid. Hateful jokes about adoption and Bucky being a cannibalistic threat to his own mom.

Shuri has not seen Winnie in a long time, for sure, but the fact still takes her aback and she has a hard time reconciling the chubby, gray-haired woman in the kitchen with Bucky’s mom. She folds her arms in front of herself awkwardly, mouth twisting in a frown at her own incompetence.

“I’m sorry...”

Bucky only nods then. “I guess It’s only fair. You guys haven’t seen each other in a long time. Do you mind starting some tea while I take these upstairs ? I think I’ll start a machine.”

At this point, she’s ready to dig a hole and rest in it so she gives a tight lipped smile before taking a sharp breath.

Winnie is holding her head in between her hands when Shuri pushes the door completely open. The kitchen is in a much cleaner state than the rest of the house and this puts her at ease enough. The older woman’s gaze is glassy when it meets with Shuri’s. Still, it lights up a little and she greets Shuri with a sad smile.

Shuri does her best to ignore the bald patch at the front of Winnie’s hair and leans to peck her on the cheek.

“You kiss me as if I were a grandma”, Winnie drawls.

“I-hum...”

“Don’t give me that. You are the most honest kid in the green state, Shuri. Now, how bad do I look ?”

Shuri darts her eyes to the tiled floor before sighing.

“On a scale of 1 to 10, I’d say a strong 2 and a half”, she confesses reluctantly. That makes Winnie huff and give her a feeble swat on the arm before pulling her close, gnarled fingers holding onto Shuri’s waist, her tone low and conspiratorial when she speaks again.

“That’s better.”

She gives Shuri a genuine smile this time, one that carves a hole in the girl's chest and twists enough to hurt.

* * *

Winnie insists on catching with Shuri a little before going back to bed, even making a point to lick the frost out of a choc mud cupcake to see Bucky's nose crinkle.

So It’s just the two of them sitting on the stairs of the back porch, prolonged by a garden before revealing the woods. Bucky and her talk about Winnie and her illness for a while. He’s very demure about it but also earnest in a way she cannot really comprehend yet, no matter how big her brain is. What she gets from it is that sometimes, the biggest accomplishment of the day can be waking up.

She wriggles her toes mindlessly for a while, waiting for Bucky to finish devouring the frosty delicacies. He licks leftover sugar with mirth while she scowls at him.

“That’s gross !”

“You’re gross.”

He leans forward with crooked fingers and mischief painted all over his face. Shuri yelps and nearly falls from the stairs. That makes him chuckle and bend over his stomach.

Later, he listens to her and her misadventures with the school staff. Teases her about her failed experiments. Makes compliments about her fresh braids that makes her heart swell and her extremities tingle with pleasure.

She sobers when she confesses him about her baba and the possibility of vacations in New-York.

“If I were you, I’d jump on the opportunity to get the hell out of this town.”

“ _But I’m not sure_ ”, Shuri sighs, kicking her feet onto the stairs.

“You have an entire wall in your bedroom dedicated to the solar system. You can’t tell me you’re fine with staying here all summer.”

She stays uncharacteristically silent so he nudges her shoulder with his, the contact sending her muscles into tensing like a bowstring.

“Think about this way. You’ll finally get to see the museum of natural history. And maybe a planetarium.”

The words incite hope in her chest but she still isn’t convinced. After all, her father is dating a woman twenty years younger than him now. A girl who used to be completely impermeable to Shuri’s babbling about perfect squares or the beauty of the Upsilon Scorpii.

“I don’t think I’ll enjoy my stay.”

Bucky reaches to grasp the hands clutching her flared skirt.

“You’re a science girl, right ?”

“I am”, she replies immediately, her abrupt reply making the dimples in his chin and cheeks more visible. For a second, she gets anchored to his winter blue eyes.

“So you believe in overcoming your assumptions and stuff ?”

She nods with vigor, prompting another chuckle from him.

“Then take the trip to your father’s as an experiment, sugar-pie. Complete the experiment, gather your data and come back to me with a scientific conclusion, okay ? There’s a lot of things to improve in this town and we could use your judgement.”

She beams at him, a happy giggle escaping her throat. Then, it hits her how much she wants to hug him. Hits her like a tornado. She even closes her little fists to keep from tackling him to the ground. Hormones are so, so weird.

“You’re funny, Bucky”, she huffs.

“Every birthday party needs a clown”, he rasps, staring ahead.

Shuri’s smile dissolves then and her heart drums against her ribcage.

“You think I forgot, right ?”, Bucky tosses before standing up, the movement making the old wooden planks squeak. He stands just right for the sun to stretch out in golden rays behind his back, looking like an angel. Her angel.

He stretches out his hand for her to take and pulls to have her stand up. Then, he scoops down and Shuri can’t help but look down at him bashfully.

“What are you doing…?”

“Just climb, princess”

She grabs his shirt with febrile hands before following his command. Sucks in a yelp when Bucky abruptly stands up and that’s how they come back into the house, with her nervous giggling in his ear as he carries her.


	3. Bleeding

Shuri stares down at the faltering candles of her birthday cake and ignores the hurried whispers and sighs that come from the guests framing each end of her chair. Lips pursed, she checks once more for the clock clicking in the living room. It’s daunting more than anything and reminds her how late _he_ actually is. It wouldn’t be this bad if Bucky wasn’t in charge of bringing a hi-fi system to the party. Or so she likes to think because truly, Shuri can’t care less about the music. He’s the only thing she truly misses.

On her left, MJ is so bored by the wait she’s folding and unfolding the purple napkins placed inside a paper plate. They look like water lilies, an idea from Billie, one of her mother’s friends who came since morning to help Shuri and her mother set up everything. The boys prefer to kill time by bickering over her game-boy color at the other end of the table. Her birthday party was supposed to be held in the backyard, where they’ve even installed a plastic arbor but the rain and wind ruined everything and instead, they all gathered inside in a panic. Mr Wong still has a towel around his neck and droplets dripping off his jet black hair down to his dark shirt. Shuri usually finds the lapping sound of rain against glass soothing but it only sours her mood now. Bucky has never missed her birthday before.

“Riri”, her mother says before tucking one of her braids behind her ear and looking around with an embarrassed smile. Shuri hums reluctantly and glances at her. “Don’t you think It’s the time to blow the candles ?”

She bites the inside of her cheek and repels the need to cross her arms and throw a tantrum. It would be rude and uncalled for, especially on the day she turns fourteen. And her cake looks so delicious too, two frosty storeys adorned with test tubes made of almond paste and full of sugar pills. The sight is enough to give anyone a diabetes shock. After an another glance at the clock, she looks back to the cake and sucks in a breath.

“Alright. I’m ready.”

The words come out a little croaky. Her mother knows but makes no comment and slips out to get to the kitchen. Mr Wong leans towards her then and presses her shoulder with gentleness, nods to the colorful scarves that surround the bottom of the cake.

“Are you disappointed by the order ? Look. I even put _Krypton_.”

Shuri smiles feebly even though the gas is her favourite element on the periodic table. She shakes her head with a pout.

“It’s perfect. Thank you...”

“ _Mmh_. Then why are you scowling so ?”

She darts her eyes to her empty plate.

“I don’t know”, she lies.

Mr Wong is giving her an enigmatic smile when she looks up to see him again. Then, MJ slides in between the man and the table with a dramatic huff, pushing him bluntly as her hand reaches for the back of Shuri’s chair. Mr Wong only shakes his head with fond exasperation before pulling away and joining her mother’s friends.

“I’m dying of famine here, buddy”

“You look really good for someone who is suffering from inanition”, Shuri replies with a matter-of-fact voice, putting her chin on her palm.

MJ squints her eyes at her before chuckling. Shuri gives in to the humor. It’s the first time she’s ever seen MJ in a dress since kindergarten and her friend is surprisingly comfortable in that attire.

“Stop taking things so literally just to impress with big words !”

“Inanition is not even a big word duh”

“No-one uses that.”

“People do.”

“Not in Vermont, genius.”

Shuri arches an eyebrow. “It still isn’t a big word. A big word would be something like _anticonstitutionnellement_.”

“The what ?”

“French word for _Antidisestablishmentarianism._ ”

“Please, have some mercy on my brain cells and just _let me have cak_ e. My mum has been on a diet for two weeks and trashed all my monster pops. I _need_ my sugar intake.”

“MJ, you sound like an addict”, she says, a small giggle escaping out of her.

Ned and Peter finally join them then and after Peter sneakily slides his finger along the cream, MJ slaps his hand away.

“Ew. Watch it, Parker !”

“Come on ! It’s been half an hour. Shuri, can we eat and skip to the part where you open your gifts and we hate you for getting the coolest gadgets ?”

“He’s joking”, Ned says before ruffling Peter’s chestnut strands. He’s came dressed to the nines as well, wearing suspenders and a red bow with white dots. Shuri really appreciates the effort. Her friends don’t nearly look this good on sunday service. Not that she really pays a lot of attention to mass either. Ned had to elbow her once because she dozed off and the Reverend was going through the central alley.

Her mother comes back with a huge grin and nearly curses when noticing four out of the fourteen candles went out during her absence. She’s ready to saunter to the kitchen again when Mr Wong grabs her elbow and pulls out a lighter out of his pockets. Ramonda immediately frowns at him. Shuri shrugs and braces herself for the impending anti-smoking sermon. That’s when she hears the crisp sound of tyres screeching against the pavement, followed by the slamming of steps.

She immediately holds her breath as hope blooms in her chest, not realizing she’s getting out of her seat and clutching the edges of the table. The doorbell rings and her friends throw wry grins her way. Shuri feels so conscious of her gangly limbs suddenly. The contrast of yellow against her dark bronze skin. The daffodil clip in her flat twists, the ones that end in little pigtails Bucky never fails to tease her for. Maybe It’s too much. Or not enough. Belle is her favourite Disney princess so Shuri wanted to honor her today but what if she looks like a giant bee instead ? Her palms feel sweaty so she hides them in the flowering skirt of her dress.

* * *

It’s Mr Wong who greets the newcomer first and taunts them about their dripping hair and wet clothes and the spring in her steps disappear and she freezes when she makes out who exactly her surprise guest is.

Sharon Carter waves her fingers at her and walks into the living room with an embarrassed smile, her heals clicking on the hardwood floor. She looks taller than Shuri remembered, her short blonde bob bouncing back when she whips her head behind and waits for Bucky to join her. He sounds a little breathless when he does so, holding two heavy bags that make his arms bulge more than necessary. It’s not lost on anyone how his white shirt nearly looks transparent now, earning him a sly comment from Billie who is already gulping down her fourth glass of sangria near the bay window. Shuri scowls at the older woman then.

“Bucky ! You’re soaked !”, her mother fusses as she comes to meet both teenagers.

“I’m sorry, Monnie. Just let me take off my shoes. Sharon, you should take off yours too”

Ramonda shakes her head and needlessly helps Sharon remove her coat, revealing the flannels she wears underneath. Shuri purses her lips at the sight. Bucky has exactly the same.

He’s still damp and looking like a wet dog when he draws near Shuri but she relishes in his attention and giggles when he opens his arms wide and cries ‘Happy birthday, sugar-pie!’ excitedly. She wants to run to him but doesn’t wanna look like a baby in front of everyone so she smiles and walks as slowly as she can.

Bucky squats down so she is the one to lean forward and hug him. Then she repels her newfound disgust for Sharon and gives her a hug too.

“You’re so grown now, Shuri. Happy birthday!”, the older girl marvels, pearl white teeth shining in between cherry red lips. Last time she saw Sharon was a year ago, when the mayor’s daughter moved out of town to start college life. It seems California has done wonders as well because Sharon has turned from pretty to sublime, looking happier and healthier. Insidiously, Shuri wishes Sharon had kept her gothic phase like in high school because at least, it made her look sick.

“Thanks”, Shuri replies in a laconic tone.

“Sorry for being late ! And intruding. I decided to arrive a week early and surprise my family but noone answered my calls at the house and Bucky was the only person available to drive me from the airport to Claremont.”

Sharon’s explanation brings noncommittal noises of surprise from the rest of the household before she suddenly gasps and rummages the pockets of her jeans. Bucky turns to her with a dopey grin that sends bile rising up Shuri’s stomach.

“You okay ?”

“I thought I put the gift in my pockets.”

“Nah. You put it in your coat.”

Shuri watches intently as his hand finds her elbow while she searches for her prize. She retrieves a small pocket with floral patterns and stretches her hand for Shuri to take it. She sucks in a breath and utters a reluctant “thank you” before reaching for the gift.

“You’re welcome !”, Sharon beams. The older girl is solar for lack of a better word now and Bucky gravitates around her like she’s the new center of his personal gravity. It doesn’t make any sense and makes Shuri more confused than she already is. She hates Sharon a little for that.

* * *

The first gift she unravels is her mom’s. A clear, plastic phone with bright neon colors. She’s nearly a decade late in purchasing a glamour phone so Shuri laughs bright when her fingers run around the blue and yellow keys.

“You’re a big girl now so this one goes into your bedroom”, Ramonda comments when she comes to smack her loud on the cheeks. There’s entirely too much people on the couch but It doesn’t matter. The place is filled with love and good vibes and Carlos Santana’s guitar plays like a tangy, vitaminised lullaby in the background. Even her father’s absence can’t steal the thunder of that. Neither does Sharon as she shares a chair with Bucky.

Her mother’s friend offers her a dark T-shirt from Urban Outfitters.

“You’ll represent the green state mountain well with this one”, Billie says before stuffing her mouth with more cake. Shuri proceeds to unfold the T-Shirt and reads the caption aloud then.

“ _Everything is bigger in Texas._ ”

Ramonda immediately snatches the clothe away from Shuri while Billie’s eyes bulge and she has to tap her chest to keep from choking. Mr Wong palms his face then and Shuri frowns when she notices Bucky and Sharon are equally sheepish, faces red with embarrassment and hilarity. She twists sideways to catch her younger friend’s eyes but the boys lower their heads to their empty plates and MJ flaps her party glasses back on her nose so Shuri only gets a view of a unicorn on one lens and a rainbow on the other.

“What were you thinking ?”, Ramonda seethes in the older woman’s direction, stretching the T-shirt to see the message for herself. Billie flicks off cream at the corner of her lips before defending her case.

“Oh my God, there must have been some mistake. This is not what I ordered, I swear it ! I’m sorry, sweetheart”, she says, the last sentence directed to Shuri.

Shuri blinks stupidly.

“Never-mind. We’re in Vermont but I don’t think wearing a shirt promoting Texas would get me _snipered_ ”, she shrugs.

Mr Wong glances back and forth between the supposed offending clothe and Shuri. “Unless you pay a visit to Barton’s grocery store, no it won’t.”

The witty comment sparks a wave of laughter around but Ramonda butts in with a threatening tone.

“ _Benedict_...”

“Sorry hum... this isn’t about geopolitics, birthday girl. You’re a bit too young to wear this.”

Her temper starts to flare then and she stands and crosses her arms, gaze running from one adult to another.

“Why are you all acting weird ? It’s my shirt now. It’s my constitutional right to wear what I want.”

She stretches her hand to grab it from her mother but Ramonda doesn’t relent and keeps her gift confiscated.

“ _Over my dead body_.”

“Mama !!!”

“ _Musa ukuvavanya umonde wam, Shuri._ Stop it.”

Her mama switching to Xhosa is a clear warning and it showers her attempt to try and coax her into getting the T-Shirt back. Shuri doesn’t even care about Texas but having everyone put such boundaries on a single shirt is maddening. They’re all acting like fools. Who the hell cared if things were bigger in Texas ? States shouldn’t compare in everything. She’s pretty sure there is no maple syrup in Texas that could ever rival the one produced by the local company they have in Claremont.

An idea germinates in her head then and she closes the distance to the chair where Bucky is sitting and stands straight in front of him, her little fists resting on her hips. Sharon immediately tries to smother a grin from her spot on the armrest. Shuri ignores her in favor of planting her gaze into Bucky’s and he freezes.

“Buck, what is wrong with my shirt ?”, she asks earnestly. He is the one she trusts the most and even though he thinks she’s too blunt sometimes, he’s always encouraged her to keep asking questions and searching for the truth. Shuri knows he won’t let her down.

Bucky swallows and looks to Sharon for help so in a burst of irritation, she grabs his chin with both palms and tug his face to have him focus on her. That makes the blonde’s humor dissolve, her mouth opening in a quiet gasp.

“ _Bucky_.”

His adam apple bobs once again with difficulty.

“Hum…I don’t...I think...Huh”

Someone gives a long suffering sigh, their feet slamming the floor angrily.

“It’s a sexual innuendo y’all !”, MJ whines, slipping in her father’s southern accent while her hands flail about. Silence settles for half a second before Mr Wong and Billie erupt in laughter. Shuri looks over her shoulder to find her mom palming her face and muttering in their native language.

Bucky turns a vibrant red, his cheeks getting warm in her hands and when Shuri turns her head to look back at him, he looks in pain so she quickly pulls away and says sorry.

* * *

It’s Bucky and Mr Wong who help them wrap up when the party ends, after a failed attempt at a group choreography to the sound of Aaliyah’s _Try again_. Shuri even makes the promise to visit Sharon’s house under the peer pressure. It’s summer and she has a giant pool after all.

Bucky is back from putting the trestle tables in the backyard when Shuri sweeps the floor of the living room, collecting remnants of confettis and fragmented balloons. Her mother escorts Mr Wong to the front porch then.

Bucky leans against the threshold and watches her complete her task, chuckling when she lifts her head and contorts her face. He even makes a point to slow clap when she gets the dustpan and squats down.

“I don’t know what you find so funny about it duh”, Shuri gruffs.

“It’s the first time I’ve ever seen you do any kind of chores, sugar-pie.”

Shuri sticks her tongue at him and he pushes her forehead back playfully.

“ _Ouch_ ”, she lies, hand raising to her head to knead the nonexistent soreness. Bucky crosses his arms and gives her a lopsided grin.

“What. _Want me to kiss it better_ ?”, he taunts.

She squints her eyes at him and opens her mouth to curse him but Bucky looks way too smug about it. So she lets the broom fall to the ground in a resounding clash and pulls on his shirt.

“Yes”, she asks, all tongue in cheek and a perfectly arched eyebrow, waiting for him to kiss her forehead as she stands on the tip of her toes. She remembers the countless times she has ran to him for comfort in the past and got him to kiss away her little scratches. On second thought, the whole thing was frighteningly unsanitary and she scrunches her nose. Bucky’s smile immediately freezes and something flashes in his eyes. She watches him furrow his brows and release a stuttering breath.

“Bucky ?”, she insists, pulling on his shirt.

He leans forward close enough for her to feel his warm breath tickling her head, lets his thumb slide down her temples and stroke her cheeks. Slow and soft. Shuri startles and whines when he suddenly pinches them more roughly than necessary.

“Hey !”, she cries while he keeps kneading her face like bread.

“What ?”

“You’re being mean”, she says, her words muffled by the way he presses her cheeks together. Shuri knows she must look like a botoxed fish now. She’s tried it in front of the bathroom mirror.

Bucky releases her face only to pinch the tip of her nose. Shuri slaps his hand away.

“Don’t be mean”

“I’m not. This was payback for earlier”, he says with a voice so raspy she can only bring a hand to her buzzing cheeks.

* * *

Shuri plops down on her bed with clean pyjamas after a bath so warm she felt as loose and relaxed as a noodle. She grabs a fluffy pillow and switches on the light projector that her father sent her earlier this week before laying on her back, hugging the pillow while she watches the ceiling turn to a galaxy and stars dancing on her murals. It’s a beautiful gift, truly and she makes her resolve then. She will go and visit her father’s new family in early August. Though only a week. As a social experience, just like Bucky said.

Thinking about him sends her floating even higher, though her chest constricts like there is too much air in her lungs. Shuri knows he’s working hard to pay the bills and kept her mouth shut when he passed his turn at the gift revealing. She’s so spoiled but still so greedy. She knows it now. Understands why exactly Sharon’s presence irked her so much.

She wants him.

She cannot quite pinpoint how exactly but she wants him. It’s like he’s stolen something from her and now, she’s condemned to search for him everywhere. It’s like being hungry but not quite.

Her throat knots and she has to lay on her side to keep from drowning under the emotions. It’s too much. Love is a bug. A fault in human programming. A threat to any sane person on this planet. Because why would she grin in the dark around a mouthful of pillow otherwise ? There isn’t much to smile about anyway. Bucky has Sharon. Pretty, grown up Sharon with curves in all the right places. His type is beautiful blondes and red-heads when he feels a little bit more audacious.

Shuri narrows her eyes at the mental picture of Bucky kissing Natasha. The two of them bonded over their mutual Russian background when the girl visited her family for Christmas break.

Three repeated knocks on the door shake her out of her thoughts and she startles before hoisting herself up immediately.

“ _Mama_ ?”

The door opens and her mother slides in, switches the light and gives her a tired smile though her eyes are shining with mirth and she’s glowing. Shuri can’t even be mad Mr Wong is spending the night and only watches her mother with something akin to adoration after turning off the light projector.

“You got a last minute gift”, Ramonda says, closing the distance to Shuri’s bed.

Shuri’s gaze focuses on the plain kraft package her mother is holding close to her chest.

“What’s that ?”

Her mother’s shoulders raise and she makes a stank face.

“I don’t know, dearest. Open it”, she says as she sits on the edge of Shuri’s bed.

Fluttering, nervous fingers nearly tear the entire envelope to shreds before her jaw slacks. She picks up a silver necklace from the covers then, her gaze running over the delicate chain before her fingers caress the heart at its end. Not only the jewel is beautiful but It’s also anatomically right. Shuri’s thumb focuses on a perfectly curved pulmonary artery before she looks up to her mother.

“Mama...”

Ramonda shakes her head. “I wish I could say I had thought of something so original and fitting for you but It’s not me. Think again.”

Her mind runs to chocolate brown locks and an infuriating dimple chin, heart beating so loud she could practically feel it in her temples.

“Mama, this is so pretty ! Please, put it on me ! Please !”

Ramonda giggles and gestures at her to turn around so she helps her put it on. Shuri scrambles out of bed and runs to the mirror standing at the corner of her bedroom, knocking a frame out of the rounded table beside it in the process.

“Riri”, her mother gently admonishes.

“Oh mama. It looks perfect. I love it so much”, she nearly cries, fingers running up and down the pendant while the mirror reflects the sight of a teary eyed teenager.

Arms wind around her waist while her mother’s chin rests on her shoulder.

“Someone left this in the bathroom. Have an idea who this might be ?”

Shuri grins and turns to face her mother.

“I’m too excited to sleep now. Can I go at Bucky’s and say thanks ? Oh mama, _please_! It’s still my birthday.”

Ramonda groans. “Shuri, It’s nearly ten pm.”

“But It’s not even that dark outside. Pleaaaaase. We both know It’s from Bucky anyway, he’s just too shy and hates attention to be focused on him sometimes.”

Her mother gives a long suffering sigh before nodding at the door.

“Okay. You can. But only because he lives down the street and I can watch you from the window. Fifteen minutes and then you come home.”

Shuri nearly tackles her mother to the ground with the force of her hug. She practically jumps inside a pair of jeans lest she come across other neighbors before running down the stairs with a fury and racing out of the house.

She clutches her fingers together and inhales a sharp breath to calm herself before climbing the stairs to the Barnes’s front porch one by one. Then, she rings the doorbell and takes a step backwards, brushes down the hairs escaping her pigtail buns to make herself more presentable, and waves at the old white lady that comes out of a taxi to get to her house and looks at her with suspicion.

Nobody comes down for a few minutes and she nearly resigns herself to go back home. Bucky must be tired. She could always thank him on another day.

Before she can turn around, the front door flies open and the words she was dying to say stay stuck somewhere in her throat. Bucky is wearing the same khaki pants he had on at her birthday party but he’s entirely shirtless now. It’s not like it’s the first time Shuri has ever seen him disheveled but the thin sheen of sweat covering his body and the purplish bruises around his neck are new additions.

“Shuri ? What are you doing here ?”, he asks with a sheepish expression before threading his fingers through his shoulder-length hair. “Somethin’ wrong ?”

Her compressed chest loosens just enough for her to mutter an audible answer. She clutches her wool vest with a death-grip, head hanging low, looking anywhere but at him.

“I just came to say thanks”, she whispers. The rest of the sentence dies down her throat when she catches Sharon climbing the last steps of the staircase, barefoot, wearing Bucky’s infamous Nirvana shirt. It looks over-sized on her and makes her look she’s not wearing anything underneath. 

Her cheeks turn flaming hot and she stammers over her words beneath Bucky’s worried gaze. She cannot stand it. The necklace adorning her throat weights like a chore now and her fingers shiver as they reach the pendant. Bucky’s eyes go wide when they follow the movement and he has the audacity to give an embarrassed smile.

“James, you okay ? I know you told me to stay in bed but-”

“Nah. It’s cool. It’s just Shuri. I won’t use a lot of time”, he gruffs.

It’s like she’s been slapped over the face and Shuri shakes her head frantically then, throwing a scowl in Bucky’s direction before walking towards the road like an automaton. She hears him calling after her but doesn’t even look over her shoulder as burning tears slip down her cheeks, and her body shudders from head to toe.

Mr Wong and Ramonda are cuddling on the couch and mindlessly watching TV when she arrives.

“Riri ?”, her mother asks, pushing a fluffly blanket off her body when she sees her daughter’s face, snot running down Shuri’s nose as little sobs rack her body. Shuri doesn’t cry a lot. Never been a crybaby so even Mr Wong takes the remote and mutes the device to get to her.

Shuri’s chest rises and falls to the rhythm of her hiccups. It’s like her heart is torn in a million pieces and she’ll never be able to put it back together now. Because Bucky still has one piece he's crushing in his hands.

“Hey, what’s going on, buddy ?”, Mr Wong asks before wiping her face with the back of his own dressing gown.

“I-I...”

Ramonda tilts her head to the side before something flashes in her almond eyes and she cradles Shuri’s neck to pull her into a warm embrace. Shuri shuts her eyes then, letting her mother’s sweet cocoa butter smell embalm her senses and soothe the ache of a broken heart.


	4. Bandaids

For the first time in her life, Shuri doesn’t want to go to school. To be fair, she doesn’t really need to and goes there for socializing more than anything because most of the curriculum is boring and insensitive. She already knows her entire science notebook by heart now.

But she does love using her brain and likes it even more when Mr Stark, one of the few capable teachers in the entire school, lets her surreptitiously grade her classmates’ papers so she doesn’t fidget so much in class or talk under breath. Stark told her once it was up to her to lay her cards flat against the table and ask her mother to enroll her in one of the state’s best programs for gifted kids. Except Shuri has no desire to leave neither her mother nor the few friends she made her own, just so she gets up close other child geniuses. Nope. 

She doesn’t wanna go today and she says so to her mother. Her belly even feels made of scrambled eggs and every time she shuts her eyes, she sees Bucky and Sharon beneath her lids. She knows that on a rational level, she has no business being this hurt and raw and resentful, as if they were responsible for peeling her skin off and leaving her flesh searing. 

“You look alright to me”, Ramonda says softly, her smooth palm taped to Shuri’s forehead to check for her temperature.

That’s not the reaction Shuri wants at all so she juts her lips, praying for her mom to fall for her pouting the way she did years ago when her five year old self put a thermometer under a lamp to heat it and act sick. Ramonda gives her an indulgent smile but gently jabs a finger right where Shuri's chest hurts the most.

"All the sickness is rooted _here_ dearest, right ?"

Shuri looks away, tightens the blanket around her shoulders and when the silence gets uncomfortable, she nods. Her mama has been incredibly soft last night, stayed with Shuri until she felt loose and sleepy enough. According to her, Shuri is experiencing her first heartache. She said it usually happens when a girl goes through her first break up. Shuri doesn't get why. As much as she cherished the idea, Bucky was never her boyfriend. It does feel like something is broken though because her entire body feels both drained and tender. Shuri hates it. It’s so unnatural that there isn’t any wound on her, not even a single scratch, but she hurts all the same. If that is love, she doesn’t want it.

After a deep sigh, her mother stands from Shuri's bed and gives up convincing Shuri to take her breakfast. She rests her fists on her hips. Shuri can tell her mother is going through an internal conflict of her own. Ramonda still allows her to stay home for today, _exceptionally_ , and Shuri wishes she’d have enough strength left in her aching bones to scramble up and hug her tight.

Though her mother still commands her not to stay idle all day and suggests some gardening or cycling, Shuri does spend the entire matinee under her covers, listening to the erratic rhythm of her heartbeat turn steady. It’s a little far-fetched but if a single heartbreak can get her to lose all need of socializing or doing basic hygiene stuff like shower and brush her teeth, she understands better why Winnifred Barnes had such a hard time after losing her husband.

When Shuri feels numb, like she’s been given an anesthesia, she finally gets out of bed.

The light that shines through wood trimmed windows bathes the entire living room in hues of orange and gold when she crosses the threshold. For a moment, she runs her fingers over the brick wall adjoining the fireplace and stares at the frames that pepper the surface. There isn’t a single picture of her mama and baba together now. Ramonda is too classy to even attempt to make her daughter forget about her father by getting rid of his image, but she still holds rightful grudges.

Shuri’s small hand raises to her necklace then. The stone has left her fingertips a little powdery, she notices as she clutches the bracket. She sucks in a breath when the familiar cold feeling seeps in her shoulders. There’s an itch to pull on the jewel until it breaks. To show Bucky she can discard his feelings the same he did hers.

_‘It’s just Shuri. I won’t use a lot of time.’_

Bucky is right in a way. You make time for those you love, for those you find precious. Bucky makes time for Sharon. Brings her as a plus one to a party she’s not even invited too. He makes time for Sharon and forces others to do the same because he _cares_.

Shuri doesn’t want to care so much. Makes her feel weak now.

She thinks of all the way she could break this necklace as her fingers knot around the chain. She could say it’s an accident. That she thrashes a lot in her sleep. It’s tat anyway not gold.

* * *

The sun is fierce in the early afternoon, set high in the sky and flaring up endless fields of lush green vines. Her purple bike lies on the soft grass while she takes a pause against the centennial oak tree that makes the Van Dyne family’s pride. They own the 55 acres of land that stretch away before her, surrounded by rolling hills.

Shuri brushes her fingers against the silver fringes that drip from the end of her bike’s handlebars. Old Stan draws close then. He’s a tall and lanky old man that doesn’t do much small talk.

Shuri met him that one time she tried to run away from home three years ago and took refuge in an old cabin of his she thought abandoned. Though he doesn’t like kids much and accused her of trespassing, he said thanks to her mother for birthing her because Shuri figured out what went wrong with his heavy duty mower.

There’s something brown and fuzzy that trails behind him. Shuri can’t contain a squeal when she notices the sweetest baby goat nuzzling her sneakers. Old Stan takes off his straw hat as she cradles the kid as softly as she can manage. His coat is brown and speckled with white, giving the impression someone just splashed milk on him, and he smells like hay and sunlight combined.

A gentle breeze is just what she needs to feel even more at peace and she gives the old man a grateful smile.

“What’s his name ?”

Old Stan smiles and winces a bit as he tries to find a correct position on the ground, but he doesn’t answer her question. Shuri is not sure if he’s really hard of hearing or if he likes holding that temporary control over others. She studies him for a few seconds, lingers on the dark glasses that always frame his face.

“Mr Van Dyne ?”

After offering her a jaded smile, he weaves his pale and gnarled hands. Shuri opens her mouth to repeat the question but comes around, lets the baby goat nuzzle her palm instead.

“You’re playin’ truant with school, aren’t you ?”

“Do you mind ?”

He keeps staring ahead and shrugs.

“Not my business. But I thought ya loved school.”

Shuri purses her lips. Peers behind the cobble stoned low walls that split the piece of land they’re taking a pause on from endless rows of vines. “I didn’t feel like going today”, she confesses.

“Somethin’ happened ?”

The goat bolts out of Shuri’s hold then and as silly as it sounds, she feels a little abandoned. So she crosses her arms.

“Why do you think so ?”

“Cause you keep answerin’ my questions with more questions, kid.”

Usually, Shuri would have answered with equal sass. She doesn’t want to quip just now.

Old Stan huffs before grasping his straw hat and covering Shuri’s head with it. She protests half-heartedly but secretly, she’s glad the large hat covers her expression like a parable because her eyes are getting read again. He must have seen it but he’s not much for public displays of affection.

“If something had happened, you would know. Nothing happens in this town and you listen to the radio all the time”, she grumbles.

“Keepin’ oneself informed is important. You should take a lesson from it. Now how did that birthday party go ?”

Shuri lets out a shuddering breath then squares her shoulders. She starts from the beginning then, hesitantly at first, expecting him to chime in and dismiss her anxiety as something frivolous, but he nods at times, even narrows his eyes when she gets to Bucky bringing Sharon uninvited. Her voice gets lower, almost whispery, and heat raises to her cheeks as she recounts seeing Bucky half-naked at his threshold. Somehow, it’s easier talking to him than discussing this with her mother.

Shuri clutches her hands together, waiting for his reply while he scratches the thick mustache she asked him about years ago, when she was even more brash and compared his facial hair to a furry caterpillar when he threatened to call the cops.

“You must think I’m silly, right ?”, she says, her voice fluttery.

Old Stan shakes his head, pats her head beneath the straw as if she were a shaken pet. Instead of rebelling, Shuri soaks in the attention.

“You’re not silly.”

“Thanks.”

“But you’re a crybaby.”

She puts on her most offended expression but the old man keeps staring at her pointedly.

“I’m not a crybaby”, she protests.

“ _Do you need some male insight on this or not_?”

A pin drop silence settles. Shuri relents with a slow bow of her neck. There’s a twinkle of mischief in the old man’s eyes that makes her frown. She doesn’t even know why she babbled about the whole situation.

“So that Billy guy-“

“ _Bucky_.”

He waves his hand dismissively. “He’s older than you are.”

Shuri nods vigorously.

“And he’s handsome ?”

Shuri lets out the most ridiculous giggle. Old Stan arches a brow. She sobers and mutters an inaudible reply. He taps his on his ear pointedly then.

“Yes. He is. I think he has the bluest eyes in the world and his hair is longer and looks soooo soft now. He even…”

“Well that’s enough”, he grumbles, holding his hand up. “And since you’re a little genius, I assume he’s kind and smart as well.”

Shuri nods frantically.

“He sounds a tad too old for you, kid. But if you enjoy him so much, maybe he’ll take notice one day. Wait for Mother nature to work its magic and I’m sure that someday, your Billy guy will only have eyes for ya.”

She deflates at that. “That’s your advice ? _Waiting_ ?”

“You said Sharon was a beautiful blonde.”

“And…?”

“A bony fourteen year old black kid is no match for a beautiful blonde at his age”, he says in a laconic tone. Shuri scoffs, and wrenches the straw hat away from her head. She knows the thing has her hair looking all flat now, and it must highlight cheeks that are still rounded by childhood. The only thing that is a little pulpy on her bony figure.

She angrily gets up and ignores the excited bleating of the baby goat as she hoists her bike up and takes seat. Shuri spares him a last scornful glance while she tucks her feet upwards then onto the pedals. She starts gliding down the flattest path of grass when he speaks again.

“Make him _miss_ you.”

Shuri squeezes the brakes. Looks over her shoulder to find Old Stan bow his neck.

“How ?”, she asks, planting one foot on the ground.

He bounces back laboriously. Shuri lets her bike fall down the grass and rushes to help him steady his stance. Her hand is supporting his elbow when he looks down to her and nods.

“Kids these days, you gotta tell them everything”, he huffs. Then he dismisses her with another wave of the hand. “You have to make yourself invaluable to him, while making him look like the irreplaceable one.”

“What does it even mean ?”, Shuri counters, scrunching her nose.

“Boys like feeling useful. And they do love a good chase.”

Shuri gets a flash of that scene in her favorite movie, _the Swan Princess_ , and almost guffaws in laughter when she pictures herself in a bunny costume and Bucky running after her with a bow and arrow.

“Like a hunt or something ?”

“You could say that.”

“So I have to make myself essential so he misses me ? I have no idea how to do that”, she blurts.

Old Stan tugs on his suspenders with a grimace.

“Well, you’re a genius. You’ll figure this out.”

* * *

Bucky is standing in front of her house, hands jammed in his pockets and no matter how ordinary the picture his, her palms still turn sweaty. She tries to reign on her emotions by making a quick computation of the trees bordering each end of the road. Twenty-five. A perfect square. Shuri loves perfect squares.

Bucky turns his head right as she crosses the sidewalk. She needs to quiet down her body because just seeing him causes the hairs on her forearm to raise and her skin to tingle.

 _Ignore him_ , her heart scream _s. Ignore him and follow your course._

“Shuri…”

She steals a quick glance before lifting her chin then climbs the first step. But the steel of her bike weights a ton when she’s not cycling and after uttering a low grunt of frustration, she concedes and lets the older teen grab it by its frame.

Bucky lets her bike rest against a pristine white colonnade before turning his focus to her with wary eyes.

“Hi”, he says so softly that Shuri nearly melts in a puddle. Her heart flutters with the rhythm of her eyelashes. This is unfair. She’s made her decision back at Old Stan’s. To keep her distance. To help time dissolve that silly infatuation.

“Hi”, she grits.

“Are you alright ?”

Shuri lifts her shoulders, lets her nails dig into her palms and turn her flesh tender. Is she ? Maybe. At least, she doesn’t feel like crying so much now. The night before has probably drained her lacrimal glands.

He sighs when she doesn’t answer and tries to draw close. Shuri immediately takes a step back. That gives him pause and he lowers his eyes to the ground, grumbles a quick ‘sorry’.

“Yesterday, you didn’t seem…okay.”

It would have been hilarious if she weren’t the one in this situation, his obvious lack of eloquence. Bucky has never been good with words. He hates being confrontational. The rotten part of Shuri relishes in his discomfort. She folds her harms behind her back and stares.

“I’m okay now”, she lies, gulping down the wool of yarns constricting her throat.

Bucky towers over her but it looks like he’s trying to shrink on himself. His hands keep pushing back his hair or brushing against his flannels. He smells a little of gasoline and burning rubber, like he always do when he’s fresh out of a shift at the local garage. Her mother says Bucky spends too much time working and not enough time studying these days. She must be right.

“Really ? Because you looked like you were crying last night, sugarpie.”

 _Then why didn’t you come after me ?,_ she wants to roar. Her Bucky always had her back. He’s not her Bucky these days. He’s all Sharon’s.

“You’re young. I get it if…if seeing Sharon and I together put scary ideas in your head.”

“What kind of ideas ?”, she taunts and almost smiles when a flush creeps up his neck and he has to look around for support, as if her mother’s plant pots could do just that.

“Well, I suppose it’s not my place to give you this kind of education…”

This pins the final nail in her air-balloon temper and Shuri lashes out before she can reconnect her brain-to-mouth filter.

“What education ? _I don’t need you to teach me anything_. I know better than you !”

“Shuri-“

She draws close then, nostrils flaring and brows so furrowed they could form a V, clenching her fists tight.

“You think I’m afraid of sex huh ? You’re wrong ! I’ve read plenty about it and I know what hickeys are, genius. If you wanna stick your penis inside Sharon’s vagina, _good for you_. But don’t come crying at my mom’s practice once you get CHLAMIDYA !”

An elderly couple passes by right at this moment, all wide eyes and baffled smiles, and Bucky looks like he’d give everything that is holy not to stand on the same porch as Shuri.

After tossing a gobsmacked Bucky a sheepish look, she twists around and rummages her pockets for the keys. Keeps digging only to find two sweet wrappers and a Cracker Jack ring. She could have cried right then. The front porch is silent save for a strong gust of wind making leaves bristle and crack like foil. Her pager is out of battery and her mother won’t come home until at least two more hours. Shite.

Shuri raises a hand and tries to operate the smooth door handle. Whines when she fails without surprise.

There’s a faint wheeze coming from behind her back. Her cheeks turn branding hot as she pictures Bucky laughing. She won’t relent though. Will stay out on the front porch until her mother’s sleek, burgundy red sedan parks at the curb.

Her stomach puts her stop to her inner monologue. It croaks out an embarrassing sound.

She hears him clear his throat pointedly.

“Well, wanna grab a bite and hang out until your mother comes home ?”

All the bones in her body are screaming at her to say yes. It would be ridiculous to deny she’s hungry and she can use the rest after all the cycling. Old Stan’s words come back to her then. Bucky studies her attentively, a little smile stretching his pink lips –god why do they have to be so lush and pink ? In the end, she turns her head away, crosses her arms.

Bucky gives a resigned sigh.

“You’re still cross with me, aren’t you ?”

Shuri doesn’t grace him an answer and waits for him to go. He does, only after a while of staring and tickling her frail nerves.

She releases a fluttering breath. Bucky is gone and his absence squeezes something hard in her chest. It’s for the better, she tells herself. Once he realizes how much he misses her, he’ll come back. But it feels like a whole eternity waiting for her mom, as she sits on the porch with her elbows resting on her knees.

* * *

Shuri has dozed off a little when the sound of a plate softly colliding with the floor of the porch shakes her out of her slumber. For cause, she has barely slept a wink the night before and her whole limbs feel like jelly. She looks up with groggy eyes and finds Bucky smiling at her.

“Grilled cheese. It’s not much I cut it diagonally, just the way you like”, he says, lifting his chin at two sandwiches, where thick yellow is dripping from golden bread.

The fact he went out of his way to prepare her some food leaves her a little breathless. She nods quietly, whispers a soft ‘thanks’ but doesn’t even dare touch the food at the reminder of her earlier attitude. Peter and Ned told her once she was a selfish brat, that time when they fought over a science assignment and she barely let them any room for initiative because she knew her ideas were the most fit. Shuri thinks of those words now and they ring so true.

“Thank you, Bucky”, she says once more, not daring to look at him as she takes a sandwich as reverently as she can. The cheese melts just right and the grilled bread crackles like a firework in her mouth. It’s simple and delicious, far from any pretense. Just like Bucky.

She devours him with her eyes then. He only watches her with a satisfied smile, fists on his hips. Shuri remarks half of his hair is pulled in a high bun while the other half tickles his neck.

“Still cross with me ?”, Bucky asks, and though he says it with a taunt, there’s an edge to his voice that makes Shuri take pause.

She swallows on her second bite of grilled cheese, licks some leftovers off her mouth and replies, as honest as she can be.

“Not so much.”

He hums. “What more do I need to do, princess ?”

He really shouldn’t be asking her that, nor calling her that. There’s a hundred scenarios coursing through her mind, each of them as ridiculous as the others. It just depends how far he’s willing to go, just for her. Can she get him to get rid of Sharon ? No. It’s too much.

She munches until she finishes a whole sandwich. Bucky stretches his hand and gives her a miniature can of soda. It tastes like medication but Shuri drinks gracefully.

She flicks her mouth with the back off her hand then gets a mental picture of all the ads she has come across while cycling back from Old Stan’s vineyard.

“The funfair”, she blurts suddenly.

“Mmh ?”

“I want us to go at the funfair together”, she almost whispers. Bucky’s brows raise high.

“Thought you’d prefer to go with your friends from school instead.”

“You’re my friend”, Shuri insists, clutching the empty can tighter.

Bucky bows his neck in approval and beams.

“Sure am.”

The words are shy of escaping her lips but she doesn’t wanna pass a demanding brat more than usual. Just the two of them. It’s all she needs. A day of fun and making memories with the boy she considers her best friend. The boy she enjoys so much.

“Somethin’ else, sugarpie ?”, Bucky asks, guessing the tension in her small frame.

After a slight hesitation, Shuri tells just what is on her mind.

“Can we really go…Just the two of us ?”

He gets blank faced for a second, before sitting down at her side and leaning towards her. If not for the dark espresso of her skin, Bucky would tell how much she’s blushing from her roots.

Shuri is taken aback to find him staring at her chest but schools her features as soon as he points at her collarbone.

“You didn’t like the necklace ?”

She looks down, feels her naked skin. Early in the morning, she didn’t have the strength to get rid of it so she tucked it away in one of her drawers.

“It doesn’t fit my outfit”, she lies and Bucky arches a skeptical eyebrow. Then he rambles about his day as she finishes her second sandwich and finds it’s already easier to be in his presence.

“I hate it when you’re cross with me”, he huffs after sobering from laughter, when Shuri tells him about Old Stan’s painstaking internet adventures. “Missed you”, he says, reaching to ruffle her braids. Shuri is too stunned to protest.

“How can you say that ? You only saw me last yesterday.”

“Yeah. But _I knew_ you were angry with me so it muddled my brain the whole day.”

Shuri turns her head away to keep him from seeing her delight.

“I was just wondering though”, he says, “How’d you know about chlamydia ?”


	5. Shooting stars

It’s not a date, Shuri reminds herself as they scramble out of a dodgem car and the heady scent of candy floss mixed with frying assails her nostrils. Bucky is eyeing a burger stall jammed between two stands littered with cheap toys, where resigned parents excavate their pockets to find some change with embarrassed smiles.

Shuri rubs her knees. They’re a little sore from the ride and she’ll surely get a few bruises but she doesn’t complain one bit. After strolling around for their next adrenaline fix and getting repelled in some because Shuri’s not tall enough for her age, they find some shade under a tree, near a makeshift terrace. Shuri nearly salivates when she peeks at a family enjoying colorful slush drinks and sorbets. Bucky has insisted on paying for every ride since early afternoon, even though her mother has given Shuri enough money to pay for everything. She knows his budget is a little tight and he works hard to earn it.

It’s way too hot. She could practically feel herself turning liquid and brushes sweat off her forehead as discreetly as she can. For some reason, Bucky doesn’t look like he’s sweating at all in an oversized shirt and a washed up pair of denims. Although he slimmed down a lot over the years, he cannot seem to let go of loose clothing.

“Feelin’ hungry already ?”, he teases.

She shakes her head and lets her eyes roam across splashy colors, frowns at excited yelping coming from a ride designed for people with a death wish, before she stares at a small, gullible crowd queuing in front of the fortune teller stand.

Shuri shakes her head and smiles bright. “Where to ?”

“Hey man ! Whatchu doin’ here ?”, a good natured voice almost screams before Bucky gets to put a word in. He twists his neck and his face lights up when he spots his friends drawing close. His teenage, grown up friends. Shuri’s smile dissolves a little then. Well, at the very least, she got Bucky for herself enough.

“Oh, isn’t that little Shuri ?”, Sam says as he opens his arms wide. Shuri shakes her head and it makes Sam laugh bright. The boy always smiles like sun is shining just for him and maybe it does. He’s a very pretty young man, if not for the tooth between his front teeth that add a ridiculous sort of childlike innocence to his face.

“Hello, Sam”, Shuri tries. There’s Steve and Thor as well, who all wave politely and bow their neck to acknowledge her presence but still stand a further away. Shuri thinks she breathes a little better when she notices Sharon isn’t there because she’s no match for her. Though there isn’t much of a competition when Bucky keeps running her hair and smiling at her as if Shuri were a puppy.

“Wassup ? You’re on babysitting duty again ?”

Shuri mentally takes back every nice thing she’s ever said about Sam. Traitor.

“Nah. Just strolling around, having fun. With a good friend”, Bucky says, sharing a complicit gaze with Shuri that makes her belly flutter.

“In my house, we call it babysitting.”

“Sam…”, Steve says with an admonishing tone.

“Okay, okay”, Sam relents before lowering his voice, but Shuri hears him all the same, “So this is why you cancelled on Sharon today ?”

Bucky clenches his jaw then, looks around, and kneads the back of his neck.

“Is she okay, man ?”

Sam shrugs. Shuri’s eyes do a back and forth between the two boys, heart drumming in her chest at the idea of putting his plans with his crush on hold. Just for her.

“Dunno. You’ll have to ask for yourself.”

Bucky nods a bit too solemnly and Sam pats his back with a contrite smile. She sinks from her high when Bucky’s friends leave and he turns to her with a contrite expression, holding his cellphone up.

“You mind If I make a quick call ?”

Yes, she wants to say but her lips run subconsciously and Bucky takes a few steps back for privacy. Shuri peers at the fortune teller stand then, crossing her arms. She has no desire to stay planted like a tree and watch Bucky show how whipped he is for Sharon.

She creates a path for herself amidst the crowd, frowning her little face when older and taller people nearly bump into her. While she lines up behind two sweaty men, she keeps stealing glances at Bucky, who is flailing his hands animatedly while simultaneously wearing the softest expression.

The man managing the stall looks completely disenchanted and his voice is utterly laconic when he asks Shuri for two dollars and fifty cents.

* * *

They’ve really taken this romani gypsy stereotype to heart, Shuri thinks as she lifts a beaded curtain and emerges in a quaint room where most of the light comes from a manufactured crystal ball. She almost rolls her eyes but curiosity gets the best of her. At least, she’ll get something fun to retell once she comes out.

“Welcome”, the fortune teller says with a genuine smile, probably the most authentic thing in a room that screams of cheap and fake, though she still sounds like she’s spent an entire decade smoking cigarettes. Shuri rounds the table, bites the inside of her cheeks to keep from making a scene. The woman is youngish, with a head full of dark hair, and sparkling clothes that twinkle with each movement of her hands. For some reason, she reminds Shuri of J Lo in _Ain’t it funny_.

“Thank you.”

Shuri sits on a small stool and looks up to the woman.

“Is there a particular reason bringing you here, dear ?”

Shuri shrugs, stares at the apothecary cabinet on her right. The room smells like incense and tobacco and maybe being here isn’t such a good idea because her mother will surely sense all of it on her.

“Not really. I was just curious.”

“Being curious is good.”

“My name is Shuri. What’s yours ?”, she says, almost defiantly.

The woman gives an enigmatic smile and brushes her heavy curls behind before picking a deck of cards, royal blue and black and lined with gold. They look incredibly smooth when the fortune teller brushes her hands against it before expertly forming a circle arc with six of them. After a hum, she stares at Shuri.

Shuri doesn’t like that “mmh” at all.

“Circe”, she finally replies.

“Like the Greek goddess ?”

“Exactly”, Circe winks.

Then Shuri looks down at the cards herself. Each picture is a symbol. She knows as much. When Billie and her mom get a little tipsy on raspberry liqueur some Friday nights, they indulge in this nonsense as well.

“The card always work”, Circe says, jabbing at a card with bright colors where a blond haired young man decked in the most unfashionable outfit, an ugly mix of flower patterns and panty hose, is holding a flower and looking upon a clear sky. The sun is shining bright beside him and he’s accompanied by what looks like a mix between a goat and a dog. Or maybe the illustrator was drunk on that day. “The fool, a major arcana”, Circe insists, her perfectly manicured finger tapping the card at least three times while she looks at Shuri pointedly.

Shuri goes along. “What does it mean ?”

“It’s positive. Speaks about new beginnings. And it indicates good health and vitality.”

Of fucking course. Shuri is only twelve and has no health problem whatsoever. This is completely moronic. She holds in a sigh and leans to slide another card forward.

“What’s this one ?”

Circe narrows her eyes at Shuri, pulls the card back.

“The _Lovers_ card.”

“Lovers ?”, she croaks, a little ashamed that her chest lights up at the idea.

“It’s about making hard decisions, taking the high road. Having courage and strength”, Circe explains, showering Shuri’s embers of enthusiasm.

Shuri blinks stupidly at the woman, who finally sighs exasperatedly and puts the cards away. Thereafter, she engages in a little staring contest with Shuri, only to close her eyes and ask the teen to put her hand on the smooth mahogany table.

“Why ?”

“You’re a difficult client so let me do a little something for you. You wanna know who your Prince Charming turns out to be right ? Like the others”, Circe says, her voice a little dry.

“Well…”, Shuri replies with an arched eyebrow.

The fortune teller inhales a sharp breath and Shuri thanks the heavens for her not muttering any gibberish. It looks she’s freezing, her calloused skin turning cold on Shuri’s.

“Circe ?”

She shushes Shuri sharply then and is so authoritative Shuri is stunned in silence.

“There’s someone in your future. Someone kind and loyal. A man that loves you with the strength of a _thousand suns_.”

“A boy”, Shuri rectifies in spite of herself, immediately picturing Bucky’s soft smiles.

“No. _A man_. A white wolf with no pack and he _cares_ a lot. So much. Too much for his own good. He’s exposed to many dangers because of his good heart.”

Shuri chews on her lip to avoid asking for more. Circe’s face twists ten different ways, as if she truly were in the scenes she’s imagining. She even squeezes Shuri’s fingers hard enough to crush her bones.

“It hurts”, Shuri grits, and she blows air through her nose when the charlatan releases her small hand. Her gaze look steamy. She puts a hand over her heart, a voice a little wobbly.

“This is heartbreaking. Gosh, you need to save him, Shuri.”

“Who ?”

“The White Wolf”, Circe replies, flicking tears off her eyes.

Shuri’s brows raise high. She nods slowly, putting her palms flat against the table to hoist herself up. That woman is completely bonkers, Shuri thinks as she tries a mall pat on her padded shoulder and waves her hand to say goodbye.

Getting out of the fortune teller’s brings her the same sensation as coming out of a theater and she blinks repeatedly to adjust to the light. Then she walks to spot where she left Bucky speaking on the phone and panic instantly kicks in.

He isn’t there anymore.

* * *

Babies don’t have object permanence, they don’t understand that when something is out of sight, it still exists and maybe that’s why they cry so much when their parents hand them to somebody and leave. Because they’re sure their mama and baba will never come home again so they cry. The feeling is understandable. Though Shuri is not a baby and she has known about object permanence for years. She has no excuse for her eyes to turn misty in the middle of a funfair just because she can’t find Bucky.

Shuri doesn’t know what to do and her hand keeps rolling the bracket of her necklace anxiously.

After walking around like a lost soul, she clenches her fists. Keeps staring anywhere and everywhere. Her heartbeat quickens fast as her eyes run from steel beams to a sea of bodies. A hand reaches for her arm then, pulls her back and she’s ready to thrash and tell the intruder to back off when he points the bright land train to her, the driver shaking his head with annoyance, even sparing her a disapproving look over his shoulder. Shuri sobers immediately, realizing how close she’s been to an accident.

“Thank you sir”, she says with a faint voice.

“That’s how close it was”, the man smiles. “What ‘s a little girl like you doing alone in a middle of a funfair ? Where are your parents ?”, he asks, resting his fists on his hips as he looks past her shoulder.

Shuri has a hard time swallowing. She hugs herself and shakes her head no.

“Just waiting for my best friend”, she replies, looking anywhere but at him because she feels so ashamed to be lost. Or should she say abandoned ? No. Bucky wouldn’t do that. He has to be searching for her right now. After all, she didn’t say a word to him about going to the fortune teller and he was busy chatting with his biggest crush. He’s her friend. Shuri has to trust in him.

Bucky will come back. He really has to.

She’s not sure but her savior doesn’t seem so nice right now, not with the way his deep-set eyes keep staring at anywhere but her face. Shuri feels her heart in her throat when he lingers on the mosquito bites she calls her breasts before rubbing her shoulder to give her a semblance of comfort. It feels wrong. But she can’t even coil away. It’s like her feet are melding with the ground.

“You need anything ?”

Staring at her feet, she doesn’t answer. It’s silly.

“Cat got your tongue ? Don’t need to be so shy. It’s a beautiful day, ain’t it ? And you look like sunshine.”

Shuri could feel invisible doors closing in as the stranger searched for her face, leaning closer, and she registers the surprising wine like odor of his breath turning her stomach sour. But she still couldn’t get her tongue to work nor her legs. It doesn’t make any sense.

“I’m waiting for my best friend”, Shuri repeats like an old record. His smile disappears and he looks around a bit before coiling an arm around her shoulder and talking to her as if they were old friends.

“C’mon, we’ll search for him together. What’s he like ?”

Her eyes widen at the nerve of him and she tries to pull away. He giggles, the sound almost childlike and utterly _wrong_ in his mouth.

“No.”

“Is that boy’s skin as pretty as yours ? You really remind me of an old girlfriend.”

“ _No_ …”, she says and hates to find her voice sounding so weak and her limbs shuddering. Hates that no one is paying them attention.

“I’ll wait for him there”, she insists, but he doesn’t care and keeps rambling, pulling her forward until she starts walking like an automaton. Her heart beats so rapidly she has to shut her eyes to keep from fainting and only opens them at the sound of a threatening, Slavic drawl.

“ _Who the hell are you ?_ ”

She doesn’t have the time to react appropriately because Bucky shoves the man backwards hard enough for him to stumble. Bucky drags Shuri by her wrist then, pulls her behind his back, lifting his arm just enough to shield her from the stranger.

“I’m just trying to help, man. She looked sad and lonely.”

After glaring hard, Bucky turns his head to Shuri.

“Is he saying the truth ?”

There’s a million things racing through her head, her chest twisting with a mix of anxiety and relief and she doesn’t even know what to say anymore. She raises a shuddering hand to clutch Bucky’s shirt. The older man isn’t lying. On the surface. But he makes her feel uneasy.

“Tell him, kiddo. Tell him I was trying to _help_ !”

“Shuri ?”

She nods faintly under the sheer pressure of the stranger’s eyes. He’s not lying. He did try to help. Bucky’s gaze hardens and her heart seizes because he does look angry with her now.

He turns his body to face the man again.

“Whatever. I’m here now so you’re not needed anymore.”

“That’s all the thanks I get ? I did look after your little friend when you were busy god knows where. I deserve a little something at least”, the older man grumbles, making a pointed gaze at Shuri that makes her want to jerk away.

Bucky stays silent and keeps glaring, his fists clenched tight. The prospect of a fight finally revives a few bystanders. Stifled whispers reach Shuri’s ears and she’s both absolutely mortified and incredibly offended none of these people bothered earlier.

“You’re not needed anymore”, he repeats with a clipped tone.

The man snickers, spares Shuri a ridiculous bow of the neck as if he were removing his gentleman hat instead of being creepy. She repels the need to hide her face in Bucky’s back and holds his gaze, hard, relentless, and gives her inner self a mental high-five when his smirk dissolves and all is left is a grimace.

Bucky waits until he disappears from their sight before drawing close and fussing over her.

“ _Are you okay_ ? That asshat screams total creep to me. You better tell me if he was inappropriate because I can still run after him and kick his ass. God, Shuri, I messed up so bad ! Searched for you everywhere and couldn’t find you ! Why the hell didn’t you tell me where you were going ?! Shuri, you need to…”

Shuri doesn’t give Bucky more time to rant and nearly throttles him with the force of her hug, so much that a breath wheezes out of him. When she dampens his shirt with tears, Bucky pulls her even closer. She keeps her eyes shut, relishes in the way his closeness steadies her heartbeat.

“I was so scared”, she whispers, forehead stuck to his chest, learning how to refill her lungs properly now he’s here and she feels alright again.

Bucky exhales softly, and Shuri feels his hand shudder when it cradles her head.

“I know, sugarpie _. I’m sorry_.”

She doesn’t count how many times Bucky apologizes, keeping her focus on the scent of his freshly cleaned clothes. He shushes her a minute more, before guiding her by the elbow to another spot, where they wouldn’t bother in the middle of the pathway.

Bucky studies her with a cautious look, and tentatively wipes the last of her tears with his own thumbs, then with his oversized shirt when it’s not enough. Then he lets her find her second wind, waits until her breathing pattern gets relatively normal.

“You cryin’ a lot these days”, he tosses with a smile.

“Shut up”, Shuri retorts while sniffling. She hates the crusty feeling of tears drying on her cheeks but she doesn’t have much choice.

“Wanna pick the last ride or do you wanna go home ? There’s an hour and a half before the last bus.”

The tunnel of love instantly comes to her mind but Shuri is too abashed to ever suggest the idea. Though it could be so nice to cuddle up to him and have a little boat ride. She shakes her head frantically to drown the images.

“No”, she sighs in frustration.

“No ‘ _I don’t wanna get on another ride_ ’ or no ‘ _I don’t wanna go home_ ?’”

Shuri doesn’t know just yet. Her feet feel sore after all the walking, and it’s her fault for picking her prettiest gold and white sandals instead of sneakers. It also does sound like a good idea to call it a day. But on the other hand, she wants to spend as much time with Bucky as possible.

“I don’t know”, she confesses.

“You don’t ?”, he repeats with an incredulous expression, brows raised high. “Thought you’d know everything by now.”

She rolls her eyes, crosses her arms. “I’ve picked the rides all day, Buck ! It’s your turn now.”

Bucky gives her a shit eating grin.

“Good. I’ve just got an idea first. Come here ?”

She thinks her heart leaps out of her mouth when he extends his hand for her to take.

“I’m not a baby”, she protests even though her cheeks turn warm with pleasure.

Bucky arches a brow, wriggles his fingers. “Don’t care. I’m not losin’ you anymore, sugarpie so bear with it.”

Shuri shrugs exaggeratedly, stomps her foot down like any thirteen year old would at the idea of being treated like a child. But deep down, she says a quiet thanks.

Bucky holds her hand firm enough to lead the way but there’s enough looseness that she can pull on his hand and make him repeatedly stop to watch stuff.

He’s the one to slow the pace in front of a market full of plush toys, brimming with it even. Splashy colored balloons and stuffed animals are hanging from the ceiling of the stall and the owner’s head almost disappears under all that. They stroll some then, and her eyes widen when Bucky makes them halt right in front of a shooting gallery which colors remind her of a sugar cane. He talks to the dumpy woman managing the stall. Shuri’s eyes linger on the woman’s beautiful cheekbones while Bucky picks some change from his wallet and the rules get explained. There’s a very cuddly Winnie the Pooh her fingers are itching to touch on the counter.

Her breath hitches when she sees him studying the sleek black gun the owner has just handed to him. It looks almost too real. Bucky even has protective goggles on now.

“Pull away, sweetheart”, the owner’s nasal voice commands, “You don’t have anything on and the logs skim a lot !”

With a nod, Shuri takes a few steps back and notices the obvious. Bucky isn’t a boy anymore. He has the stature of a man already and all she can focus on is his broad back and lean muscles as he aims at a line of targets.

* * *

“Are you okay ?”, Bucky asks again when they’re on the Ferris wheel. The days are longer now so the view accutely lacks the charm of shimmering lights. A brass band’s music is accompanying the ride, the sound interspersed by kids screaming and flailing arms down below, on the inflatable playground. Shuri either sees a small forest piece or colorful tents and banners clapping in the wind. One day, she’ll get to see a funfair at night, a brightly lit place which could rival a sky full of stars. She thinks of New-York then. There has to be loads of amusement parks there.

Shuri holds onto the safety railing of their seat.

“I’m good”, she replies, tightening her hold on the most adorable stuffed raccoon.

Bucky has won earlier, _just for her_. He made a clean shot through all the targets and there were twelve of them. Even the old army veteran chatting with the owner during the game was impressed with his skills. Shuri gave the game a try herself and only managed to make three targets fall. The loss still hurt because she wanted to offer Bucky a plush toy so bad.

She has not let go of his gift ever since and has yet to find it an adequate name. Something cute and fun. But no scientist’s name seem to fit.

“If you’re good, I’m good too”, he says. “Found a name to your baby raccoon ?”

“Nah. I think I need more time.”

“C’mon ! It’s not rocket science to find a name for a damn plush toy.”

She mock pouts then, turns her head around as her stomach clenches the way it always does when their seat is the one to peek high in the sky.

“Wait- _Rocket science_ ”, Bucky repeats.

“What ?”

“It fits. You should call him Rocket science ! You’re the mad scientist and Rocket science could be your assistant raccoon”, he grins, crossing his arms as if he just got a particularly ingenious idea. Shuri rolls her eyes before looking down to the plushie. She strokes his velvety red scarf for a second.

“Did you hear that ? This idiot wants to call you Rocket science ?”

“ _I_ heard that.”

“Rocket science, _rocket science_ **, rocket science** ”, Shuri says, rolling the name on her tongue until it starts to ring right, raising the raccoon with her lithe arms.

“See ? it fits !”

“’Kay. But I’m still shortening it to Rocket. So the joke is more subtle”, Shuri retorts with a pointed brow. Bucky huffs a mock suffering sigh that makes her giggle. He rummages through his pockets then, pulls out his Nokia and holds it right in front of him.

“What are you doing ?”

“Trying to take a few pics”, he says.

Shuri gasps.

“So cool ! I wish I had a phone to take pictures with too.”

“Well, It’s not much. Can only store twenty pics in that actually.”

“That’s still better than none”, she says, leaning closer to see a blurry shot of the funfair.

“Strike a pose”, Bucky says suddenly, turning his phone to her and it makes her warm all over to know he wants to save a memory of her. But she doesn’t like photographs much, and usually stands stiff when it happens. But she would do it for Bucky. Just for him.

Shuri tucks a loose braid behind her ear and holds Rocket close before trying a tentative smile.

“Think of perfect squares”, he quips, wiggling his brows like a fool and it’s just enough for her lips to stretch.


	6. Drifting

“And that’s why _Hyperspace_ from Michio Kaku is my favorite book, you know ? Can you imagine if we really manage _superluminal travelling_ ? That would be mind-blowing. But the best part is him explaining the 2-D world”, Shuri gushes after they come out of the bus and tread towards the lane guiding them to their neighborhood. Bucky hums with a knowing smile because she really can’t help it. Even an ordinary discussion he started about Star Wars can turn to her enquiring about the future of technology.

Shuri stops rattling about phase velocity when she catches Bucky throwing her a conniving glance.

“Hum…Sorry. I must be boring you”, she says, turning her head to the steady traffic on the road.

 _Crap_. Why can’t she just obsess over things like a normal person ? Why does she always have to get so passionate about everything ? That’s really how she works. Obsess over a topic, eat up anything written under the universe for that particular topic only to get bored a few weeks of research later. But obsessing about what the future can bring is constant.

Bucky shakes his head. “Don’t be. You should never apologize for being the smartest person in the room”, and before Shuri can reply they’re outside, as she tends to take things so literally when she’s embarrassed, he picks up the pace and says he’d prefer universal translators over time travel. Shuri bites her tongue to keep from elaborating further on a few experiments run by a university in Pittsburg.

Too soon, they turn left at a crossroad and engage in a familiar lane boarded with white picket fence homes. Shuri ignores the urge to huddle against Bucky. She doesn’t want the day to end, not yet, and would give much just to stay in his company a little longer. Her feet start dragging in spite of herself. Bucky notices and comes to a standstill so abruptly Shuri bumps right against his back.

“Feelin’ tired ?”

She blows through her nose. She got a serious case of jitters searching for Bucky this afternoon and interacting with that creepy old guy. And the fortune teller’s odd behaviour still lingers on the back of her mind as well.

Her mother always gets off work late these days. Today is not an exception because Ramonda already sent Shuri a text back at the funfair. Besides, she could always hit her pager and tell her mother he’s spending some more time with Bucky if her mother comes back sooner.

“A little bit”, she replies, “My feet hurt.”

This isn’t a lie. Her soles are sore from all the walking. Bucky’s house is the closest. She’s dying to know what his bedroom looks like these days. Has not been up there for ages.

Bucky acquiesces with a nod.

“Well, it’s late. I can always swing something for dinner if you want.”

Shuri takes a look at Bucky’s house then, notices the chipping paint on the façade and the old flowers on the front lawn. “I can help,” she says with a smile.

“Since when do you know how to cook ?”

“ _Do you want me to help or not_ ? Cooking is chemistry anyway”, she deadpans.

“Okay, genius. You can be my assistant. Follow me”, Bucky says, arching a defiant brow.

The door squeaks when Bucky opens it and Shuri dutifully follows behind. Bucky tells her not to take off her sandals. The interior bodes better than the outside with Bucky’s mother watercolors adorning the walls of the living room. She used to be a children’s book illustrator but sadly, she stopped working after his father’s death.

Bucky narrows his eyes at the state of the house. Shuri doesn’t get why because it’s faultlessly clean and smelling fresh. A tall bouquet of white roses and lilies even rests atop the kitchen’s table. Shuri is quite relieved Winnifred had enough energy to get out of bed and arrange the house the way she sees fit.

He cleans his hands then gestures at her to do the same. Shuri takes her time to take a seat while her eyes devour everything. That makes him give a long suffering sigh.

“You really wanna snoop, right ?”

“Is that…bad ?”, Shuri stutters. It has been a while since she visited the first floor. She is curious to find what his bedroom looks like now he’s a teenager. Bedrooms are people’s most intimate places. They can tell a lot on a person and she’s dying to learn more about him.

Bucky chuckles while looking into the fridge. He pulls out a small chicken before resting it on the table with dramatic flourish. His blue eyes rise to catch hers, a smirk tugging at his lips when Shuri lets out a little noise of disgust. The glistening pink skin combined with stretchy skin is enough make her stop breathing.

“Still want to help ?”, Bucky taunts and she shakes her head frantically. “Go snooping upstairs then”, he adds with a laugh. Shuri nearly leaps out of her chair, eager to get away.

* * *

Given her brash tongue and how unyielding she could get with her genius, her mother has always made a point to teach her kindness. And Ramonda is kind but knows how to be assertive when necessary. It’s the thought that guides Shuri at the end of the class, and pulls her towards Mr Ross's desk while the rest of the kids leave the room with relieved sighs and excited babbling about the next computer lab day.

It’s odd that Shuri kept raising her hand and the teacher never allowed her to give the answer. Not even once. Not even when the rest of her classmates, in a strange surge of social solidarity, kept their mouths shut at the plainest question about an electrolysis experiment they made ages ago. Shuri was the only student raising her hand then. Their eyes met. He still gave the answer himself.

So she clutches the straps of her backpack and waits until he looks up to her from behind his glasses. She’s reminded of MJ being adamant about their teacher looking like a mouse the first time he came to school and stifles a budding smile. Shuri doesn’t find the man so bad as a supply teacher, even though Stark is the best. Hands down. She even remembers having quite the conversations with him during class before. Almost like a friendly back and forth. That makes his new attitude even more suspicious.

Ross gives her attention only when the last student crosses the threshold and it’s just the two of them leveling eyes. Shuri gulps down, lifts her chin to appear more confident than she is inside. Then she butts in.

“I knew all the answers”, she says and waits a beat for him to furrow his brows and sink further in his chair. She swallows some more to keep her voice even. “What you did was unfair.”

Another beat. Ross sighs, takes off his glasses and massages the bridge of his nose.

“Right.”

Shuri freezes. It’s unexpected because she mentally prepared herself for him to dismiss her case and do it fast.

“Then why ?”, she croaks.

He looks past the door, waits for a line of students to walk through the corridor before speaking again. His hands keep playing with the temples of his glasses, his mouth twisting as if he just bit into a lemon.

“You know everything there is to know about 8th grade science. Even far and beyond”, he says with another long suffering sigh. “And I’ve been told I’ve been accused of favoritism.”

The perfumed breeze filtering through half-opened windows is the only thing that grounds Shuri’s temper. Though she clutches the straps of her backpack even tighter.

 _Favoritism_. It wouldn’t be the first time that word is used to relate her school career. It’s either the teacher obliging her too much or Shuri ‘monopolizing’ the speaking time in class. She wonders which one of her classmates complained to their parents this time.

But she knows it’s not her fault, that a bunch of babies can’t handle her intelligence. She doesn’t get why she should dumb down her answers for the others. If she knows, she raises her hand, simple as that. Nothing foul about that. Nothing.

Ross notices the shift in her posture, the sinking of her shoulders at the news. With a smile that looks more like a cringe, he repositions his glasses and weaves his hands.

“You have to understand. It’s a small town. We’re not equipped to deal with that kind of intelligence.”

Shuri keeps her eyes on her sneakers and her mouth shut, doing her best to put down the sparks of her resentment. It’s not just that, she realizes. Most of these kids she has spent her entire childhood with. And they must be sick of Shuri trampling on their fragile egos. Or maybe their parents are the pettiest, narrow minded ones. Whatever. There’s only one more week before summer vacation.

“You should really think of trading schools”, he adds, and the suggestion makes lift her head. “I know you’re very close to your mother but joining a gifted program will do you good. I can’t keep giving you additional homework. Look, my attitude was horrendous and for that, I am sorry.”

Shuri watches him pick a small piece of paper then, scribbling in his elongated handwriting before handing it to her. She steps forward reluctantly and reads the note. An English sounding name, just like his, and a phone number.

“This boarding school is only 40 minutes away. You could always come back for the weekends.”

She opens her mouth to counter and Ross shakes his head with something like compassion. That immediately shuts her up.

“Just try. You never know.”

After staring at the note some more, she nods and folds it in two before burying the thing in her pocket.

She smiles at her friends who have all waited for her to finish talking with the teacher. As usual, Peter and MJ are the most invasive ones but Shuri doesn’t wanna talk about it. It’s bright outside, a vivid blue sky and a blinding sun that highlights the asphalt and red bricked buildings surrounding the school and she has some time on her hands today. Ramonda wants her to pass by the practice for once so Shuri suggests buying some sweets and soda cans to the elderly couple running a grocery store across the town’s library. It’s a very strategic move that has MJ arch an eyebrow. And after snacking, Shuri manages to convince her friends to go with her.

* * *

Roaming a library feels like being in a candy store to Shuri.The boys don’t think like that though and the eldest librarian keeps shushing them from the other end of the room. She looks past her shoulder to see their shoulders shaking and their head bobbing as they hold a thick documentary, in the aisle dedicated to art. She’s been familiar with the Dewey Decimal system ever since she learnt how to read so she navigates the library with ease and picks a book on WW2.

Once she finishes flickering through the documentary, she joins her friends, rolling her eyes at the picture which makes them giggle so much, which is very serious shot of an ancient Greek statue. A naked man. She doesn’t understand why they’re making a fuss over it. Besides, it’s pretty and well proportioned.

Shuri exchanges a jaded glance with MJ who is firmly crossing her arms.

“You guys have no chance to ever look like that so be humble”, MJ sighs.

“How would you know ?”, Peter counters, obviously pricked. Ned keeps smiling like a loon and flicks another page. It’s routine work for Peter and MJ to butt heads these days so Shuri diverts her attention to the checkout desk.

“You’re gangly and he’s fat”, MJ says with a clipped tone. Shuri is stunned herself and checks the boy’s faces for hurt and anger. Ned only raises his brows but Peter scowls, clenching his jaw.

“So what ? We might never build muscles but you guys aren’t better than us. You’re as flat as a an ironing board.”

This time, Shuri scoffs, shaking her head at the slander. She expects MJ to have another clipped comeback, searches for her eyes but stills when she notices some tears welling up there.

“ _MJ_ …?”

Then her friend wrests the book away from them, ignoring the boy’s whines as she closes it and proceeds to search the shelves for its assigned place. Shuri cringes internally when MJ squats down to find a gap between two other heavy art books.

It’s an art book on Greek sculpture. It belongs in 733 not with 730. 730 is for plastic arts. Too general. She considers suggesting MJ to look closely at the book’s spine but her friend looks weird today, smaller if it’s possible, as if she’s shrinking on herself in shame.

Shuri turns back to Peter with a scowl. He shrugs, mumbles something about waiting for Shuri to check out her books from the outside.

“He doesn’t mean it”, Ned says to MJ, jamming his hands in his washed up jeans with a sheepish look. There’s a silence, a slow nod and then, when she stands up and turns around, MJ bears the same jaded look as usual.

There are only three people in the line so checking out the books should be fast. That is without counting on Zadie, the youngest librarian of the duo. Some say she’s the town’s eccentric lesbian because she dresses like a man. Shuri is not sure for the latter but she can definitely confirm the former. It’s good though. Exchanging with someone so passionate about the world is refreshing and Shuri beams when Zadie announces that her favorite children’s books illustrator will come in town in two weeks. He’s always said no before but has recently fired his agent so coming to this humble town of theirs is like flipping the bird to city folk.

Shuri is still smiling when holding the brightly colored flyer outside and the joy only ebbs when MJ remarks on the promise she’s made to Bucky about keeping company to Winnifred for a whole afternoon on the same date.

“It’s not serious”, Peter interjects, “You could always go together.”

“Bucky’s mom is too weak to drive or take the bus, genius”, MJ grits.

“I wasn’t talking to you”, he counters with the same gravel. Then he makes a point to take Shuri by the shoulders. The gesture doesn’t go unnoticed and MJ averts her eyes to the other side of the road.

“Maybe someone else could come look after her”, Ned offers, and Shuri shakes her head.

“No. Bucky is my friend. _I promised_.”

Still, she stares at the author’s portrait some more.

* * *

Later that night, while digging her pockets before tossing her clothes in a basket, she finds the crumpled note from Mr Ross and sits at the edge of the bathtub to read it again.

It’s not a bad idea, far from that. It’s true that she feels insanely bored in class and the extra work doesn’t do it as much as it used to. She does need more challenge. But she loathes the idea of her mother alone in this big house. She knows abandoning her mom is impeding in the future, since there’s no college in their town. After weighing her options, and contemplating the development of Wong’s relationship with her mom, she crinkles the paper until all is left is a patty of white and ink.

The idea still haunts her mind though, tickling Shuri into spilling everything to her mama. From another teacher being accused of favoritism over her genius to the cracking in Peter and MJ’s friendship and her feeling torn over missing the only chance of seeing one of her favorite authors in town.

She sets the table with absent-minded movements. Ramonda notices, of course, but doesn’t pry. They heat up the bredie from the day before, and Shuri lets her mother rant some more about her patients before trading topics.

She keeps playing with a piece of lamb dipped in tomato, searching for the right way to speak without passing off as an entitled brat. That’s what she is sometimes, she knows. Talking about oneself is hard though so she prefers to tell about Peter and MJ instead.

“They’re acting weird, don’t you think ?”

Ramonda mops some sauce from her mouth then but Shuri knows she’s smiling because her almond eyes have turned to slits.

“Sure they are. But don’t you worry for them. They’re going to be fine.”

“Okay”, Shuri slurs, “How do you know ?”

“My sixth sense maybe”, her mother offers and when she notices Shuri puckering her brows, she giggles. “Okay, okay. I can tell from experience. I’ve been young before you lot. The thing is…I think MJ is realizing Peter is a boy and Peter is realizing MJ is a girl.”

“But mama, they’ve _always_ known about the other’s gender.”

“Dearest, think about Bucky now.”

The mere mention of his name elevates the heat in her body and she has to suppress the urge to look down to her half-finished plate.

“Think about him really hard”, Ramonda insists, tongue in cheek and Shuri has to clutch her fork for comfort.

“Now what ?”, she says a little too abruptly. Her mother doesn’t take heed of it.

“When did you start seeing Bucky as a boy ?”

Shuri reaches for the necklace he offered her without thinking, and pictures him finding her hiding in the ridiculous wart looking igloo at the park near the school after being bullied by her classmates, when she was only six.

The smell of damp leaves in the autumn rain. Soft, winter blue eyes on a chubby boy who reaches out with a diaphanous hand to hold her own.

Back then, she thought the reactions she had when he was in close vicinity were signs of a stroke. She knows better now, only a little. Because the want and longing feel too enormous to be contained in her little body and she wonders about what ifs all the time.

She’s too stunned to give an answer. That makes Ramonda reach out for her hand.

“Sometimes, we look at people but we don’t really _see_ them. There’s a difference”, her mother’s honeyed voice says and all Shuri can think about is the moment when Bucky realizes she’s a girl.

Ramonda cackles, suddenly, and that breaks Shuri out of her reverie.

“What’s so funny ?”

“Bucky”, she says after another wave of giggles. “When your father and I moved here, you were only a baby and Bucky was like five. He used to be such a snoop and would always try to come home uninvited.”

Shuri thinks it’s the first time her mother evokes her father with such a relaxed mood so she can’t help but smile as well. 

“And you were so much chubbier as a baby. So much that he told us you looked like that fat little man from Michelin pneumatics.”

A scoff from her part makes her mom grin even more. But Shuri doesn’t comment, lets her mom travel to sweeter times.

“One day, I was giving you a bath in the garden. I think it was summer. Bucky was hovering by as usual and you know what he said to me ?”

“What did he say ?”

“ _That you didn’t have a pee-pee so you could borrow his if you wanted to_ ”

Shuri squeals immediately, hiding her face in her hands. The awkwardness is too much. She’s still shaking her head about it when her mother stands up to clear the table.

Usually, she doesn’t spare an occasion to tease Bucky but this time, she doesn’t find the need to reminisce about that. Especially when the invading pictures of a very naked, regular Bucky etch their way into her brain and make her head hung in prickling shame.

* * *

The memory of him being willing to lend his appendage to her is the first thing Shuri thinks about when she sees Bucky at his threshold and just like her mother, it nearly sends her into a hysterical fit of giggles.

His hair is half-up, half-down and he smells like fresh citrus, all ready for another afternoon shift at the local garage. Sadly, it’s not summer vacation for high schoolers yet. Shuri knows Bucky will work twice as hard once he’s free from school anyway. Which also means she will see him a little less.

She clears her throat then. “ _Service member reporting for duty_.”

Bucky grins at her ridiculous mimicking of an army salute and leans in to ruffle her braids. Ever since she’s learned about his grandfather being a sergeant in the army, she has quipped about the military with him.

“Okay, Corporal Udaku. I’m counting on you”, he says, playfully pulling on a loose braid. Then he looks over his shoulder past the empty living room. “Mom is taking her beauty sleep now so there’s not much to do.”

He hands her a note then. “Remind her to take this medication at four, sugar-pie.”

Shuri nods and marvels over his adorable scribbling, a cursive with perfect curves, so unlike Mr Ross.

She’ll keep that note.

“Alright”, she says.

Bucky looks her up and down then and she finds his gaze feels the same as the sun when it drenches her skin. In spite of herself, she looks at him from behind her lashes.

“Thank you for coming. I really didn’t know who to ask beside you.”

 _Not even Sharon ?_ , Shuri wants to ask but repels the childish need for reassurance deep inside her. She nods again and he steps aside to let her enter the house. She wants to lengthen the moment somewhat, without having any idea what to do or say to keep him from leaving so soon.

“Shuri”, he says suddenly, turning back on his heels.

“Mmh ?”

Shuri’s heart bashes against her chest. It’s alarming the way he’s able to disarm her. Will she ever get rid of those symptoms ? She fists her top awkwardly, eagerly awaits for whatever he’s about to say because he manages to make platitudes sound like harmonies.

Bucky darts his eyes to the old flowers boarding the lawn. He looks wary, not unlike the laid back boy who has just opened the door for her.

“I was wondering…About my graduation ceremony.”

“What about it ?”, she says in an exhale, heart drumming in her chest.

He scratches his ear then, and Shuri notices they’ve gotten a little red. Funnily enough, this sparks the same reaction in hers.

“Would you and your mom come see me ? Please. I know I’m asking a lot but you guys are like family by now and- “

“ **We will** ”, she says before he even gets to finish his sentence. Of course they will support him on that day. Bucky’s family has always been a mysterious thing. She knows he’s kept some form of contact with his maternal grandparents, in the form of postcards more than anything, but over than that, it’s radio silence. It’ll be an honor to be claimed as Bucky’s family. And she makes a mental note to gather a whole team to cheer him on then. Her best friends come to mind then Old Stan. Mr Wong could tag along as well.

“We will”, Shuri repeats, a little more softly, and her heart skips a beat when he smiles bright, way too bright for her to keep looking him straight in the eyes.


	7. Growing up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I really didn't plan on falling back in love with this story and churning out an update in one night but here we go.  
> Hopefully the muse stays with me until I finish this tale. The discontinued tag is retrieved for now.

Shuri knows she’s probably grating her mother’s nerves and annoying everyone else in their row as she stamps her feet. Her rhythm is way offbeat in comparison to the band’s interlude music but she doesn’t have any other way of expressing her trepidation. Of course, she expected long speeches and the usual platitudes about past and future when Bucky invited them to his graduation but not quite like this. Not this excruciating wait where she can only catch some glimpses of him in a sea of royal blue gowns while school administrators and elected officials take turns to remind everyone of the importance of education and tight-knit communities.

The first row of students has not been called on stage yet. Shuri almost twists her neck trying to spot Peter and Ned in the gym, and she rubs her arm when she fails to. MJ’s absence is fair since it’s mid june and she usually spends most of her summer vacation helping her grandparents on their organic berry farm. But the boys have promised to come.

“Stop fidgeting for goodness’s sake”, Ramonda gently admonishes, which is followed by Shuri’s noncommittal grunt. On her mother’s right, Winnifred Barnes is barely containing her own emotions, hands clasped so tight her veins might just pop out and eyes brimming with unshed tears. Bucky’s mother still indulges Shuri a tight lipped smile before staring ahead. It must be one hell of a trial for her to go out in public again after years spent being a hermit. There must be some social embarrassment in being surrounded by the same people who used to bash you for your addictions. For a tight knit community, Shuri knows the Barnes have not been offered nearly enough help.

She wishes she could help right now but she’s practically shuddering herself. It’s a humble graduation ceremony with around a hundred students but it’s still big a milestone. She’s both elated for Bucky and feeling slightly torn because it means a lot. In a few minutes, when Bucky’s name will be called on stage, he will be a real grown up. Whereas it will take Shuri a few more years to be up there herself.

Her chest pangs at the idea. She instinctively clutches her shoulder bag and looks for exits, eyes roaming over ceiling drapes and archways made of white and blue balloons.

She somewhat feels a gust of wind behind her then. Looks over her shoulder to see the source and for the first time in minutes, she smiles bright.

Old Stan tips his signature straw hat for her.

After a barely contained squeal that earns another bout of Ramonda sucking her teeth at her, Shuri lowers her voice and finally whispers.

“You’re _late_ ”, she chides, unable to wipe out the big grin on her face.

“Even an old man has a right to take his beauty nap”, he quips back.

Then he bows his neck and softly acknowledges Ramonda and Winnie. Another parent shushes them all when it’ s finally time for students speeches.

Shuri is not surprised to learn Sam is the Valedictorian. He has a way with words and tells them a story entrancing anyone in a way that reminds Shuri of the Sun and the planets that gravitate around it. The story of a gap toothed lonely child who learned to use his voice through the power of education and sports. Gives them enough personal anecdotes for them to relate to his personal journey but keeps the entire speech universal somehow.

She’s pretty sure she catches some sniffling in the audience when Sam ends with his last words:

“Most of us have known, loved or _hated_ each other since kindergarten. I’ll miss all this when I’m gone. This sense of community. Knowing I’m more than a face in a crowd. May we all remember the good and bad times we lived together all these years because it all sums up to this: living together and growing together as we learn to be good citizens. I’m proud of my fellow graduates and proud of the man I can become. Now is the time for some of us to try new places, and see if we can make new friends somewhere else. Hopefully the world gets to hear us roar now because even though we graduate from a small town, we’re allowed to dream as big as any other student in this country. _Excelsior_ !”

The amount of applause and wolf whistles nearly turns Shuri deaf but she has to get up and clap her hands too. She can hear Sam’s voice vibrating in her chest long after he’s finished, exhorting her to follow her dreams, as students take turns to receive their diplomas.

It’s not long before Bucky is called up there. Shuri is the first to stand then.

She claps excitedly when Bucky catches her face in the crowd after he shakes hand with the mayor, Harrison Carter. Shuri almost melts on the spot at his gentle smile. Everything fades in her mind from the applause to the citrusy scent of the peonies lining the stage because even from there, she can see his eyes crinkled with pleasure and pride.

* * *

“So whatchu thought about it, sugarpie ?”

Shuri hides a shy grin by bowing her neck, and Bucky adjusts his own cap on her head so it stops gliding down. The ceremony has ended but most families have gathered in front of the school’s entrance to take more pictures after the anticipated cap tossing. She has bought a disposable camera herself for the occasion but has yet to pull it out of her shoulder bag, which has the shape and color of a lemon. It highlights her white lace dress well. She practically turned her mother crazy with the many outfit changes. Naturally, she wears the necklace Bucky offered for her birthday with pride.

“Not bad.”

In her peripheral vision, she catches Sam Wilson and a few other students using their nicely rolled diplomas as light sabers under some parent's disbelieving but fond stare.

“ _Liar_. I know you were impressed”, Bucky teases, using _his_ diploma to try to tickle her side.

She rolls her eyes and playfully shrugs.

“ _Just a tiny bit_. I’m a genius, you know. It won’t be long till I catch up to you, Buck.”

Bucky arches a brow then holds his diploma in front of her face.

“You’re gonna have to fight for it if you want it, young padawan. It’s no easy”

Shuri narrows her eyes at him before reaching for the roll. In a swift movement, Bucky brings his arm higher and higher until the height difference between them turns cruel.

She angrily clenches her fists.

“That’s not fair. You’re taller than me.”

“ _It won’t be long till I catch up to you_ ”, he says, parroting her words and confidence. Shuri crosses her arms and glares hard.

“Whatever”, she mumbles.

“Just a few more inches and you’ll get there, sugarpie. I promise”, Bucky insists.

“What are you bullying kids for, Buck ?”, a kind voice tosses. Shuri turns her head to see Steve drawing close, followed by an elated Sam.

They both look very handsome in their graduation gowns. The color makes Steve’s eyes a sharp blue and highlights how rich Sam’s skin is. Shuri thinks if Bucky didn’t exist, she’d surely have a crush on either of these young men instead.

“She don’t need your help, Cap. Shuri is plenty able of bullying Bucky herself”, Sam jokes, throwing her a wink while he puts his arm across Steve’s shoulder.

“No one is bullying anyone, guys”, Bucky sighs.

“Don’t mind him, Shuri. The graduation is getting to his head but it will deflate in a few more hours.”

“Fuck you, Steve.”

“ _Language._ ”

“What was Bucky even bullying her for ?”, Sam pries, releasing his hold on Steve. Though Shuri doesn’t miss the way his hand lingers on the other boy’s back the way Wong does for her mother.

“Her height.”

Sam guffaws. “That’s very rich coming for a cradle robber - OUCH”

Bucky glares at his friend who is now massaging the sore back of his head. Sam retaliates soon enough, locking Bucky’s head in a vice grip against his chest, right underneath his armpit, while he repeatedly mock kneads his elbow into his head. Bucky makes a half-assed attempt to push him away but still wheezes a chuckle in his struggle.

Shuri watches the both of them, almost entranced. It’s such a rare sight to see Bucky act like a teenager. He’s always so responsible when it comes to his mother or Shuri herself. Something about the sight makes her feel like there’s not enough room for air in her lungs.

“You little shit”, Bucky says.

“Right back at ya, you dirty old man.”

Steve catches her staring and his lips stretch though his smile looks a tad sad.

“Kids these days”, he sighs in a melodramatic fashion, fists resting against his hips.

Shuri acquiesces with a nod. When she wants to brush back her braids, her hand collides with Bucky’s graduation cap. Her fingers tremble while she tries to take it off and then, she cradles it gently, quietly mouthing the handwritten words on it.

> _I will remember all of them_

“Shuri, you gotta grow up soon because I don’t know how long I can contain this dirty old man”, Sam tosses.

Bucky shoves Sam hard enough for the other boy to stagger on the grass then.

He’s short of breath but his tone is still determined when he speaks.

“ _What the hell are you on about,_ _Sam_? And stop calling me that.”

“Ain’t that the truth though”, Sam insists.

Bucky rolls his eyes, and catches up with Shuri in two big strides. His eyes lower to his graduation cap.

Shuri’s heart thuds in her ribs like a bird trying to escape its cage.

“Don’t listen to him, he’s an idiot. You don’t wanna try on the cap anymore ?”

She presses her lips tight for fear of seeing her heart jumping out of her lips to cuddle Bucky’s legs. It’s physiologically impossible but it does feel like it’ an option when he stands this close and smells so good. She doesn’t understand why Sam jokes about Bucky being a dirty old man when he’s anything but that. Has seen one up close herself back at the funfair. The experience still brings a sour taste in her mouth.

Shuri is also dying to know what formal wear he hides underneath his blue robe. Maybe she is the dirty old man herself.

“Anyone else feelin’ famished ? I need a burger right now. Preferably one from Aunt May’s”, Sam butts in, back to his poker face.

Steve chuckles at his light-speed recovery while Bucky drags his fingers in his unruly hair. He unravels his low bun and gingerly puts his graduation cap on then.

“I do”, Shuri says, making an effort to turn her attention away from Bucky.

“Glad to see I ain’t the only stomach on legs. See Steve, there’s more of us than you think.”

“I can see that”, the blonde concedes.

“Though I’m only going if you treat me, Sam”, Shuri suggests.

“Bucky spoils you way too much”, he sighs, leaning in to mess with her braids. Shuri pats his hands away with a giggle. “It wont be on me, sweetheart. I’m actually diggin’ for dinero myself. But we can try the puppy eyes on Steve instead”, he trails, throwing a glance at Steve before putting his hands around Shuri’s shoulders. “ _Or Buck._ ”

Bucky puffs out his chest then crosses his arms, leveling a hardened gaze at them.

“No”, he says before Sam opens his mouth again. Then his eyes settle on Shuri. She startles somehow but recovers enough to flutter her lashes at him and smile just so her cheekbones get more visible. She knows it’s an adorable look on her. Sam giggles at her endeavor.

“Please, Buck. I know you love pecan pumpkin pancakes too”, she tries.

Bucky grunts then looks away.

“ _For breakfast_ ”, he mumbles.

“May’s diner serves breakfast all day”, Sam counters. “Come on. You can’t say no to those eyes”, he says, gesturing at Shuri’s face.

There’s a long suffering sigh then a quick nod from Bucky. Steve is a little abashed but pats him on the shoulder before throwing a grin in Sam and Shuri’s direction.

“You guys are trouble.”

*

*

*

Shuri catches up with Peter and Ned in the crowd. They actually arrived mid ceremony but were too chicken to cut across the central aisle and join the two chairs that Shuri set aside for them.

It’s late afternoon when the entire group settles at the infamous _May’s American Din_ er, a roadside diner on the far end of town, near the woods. In the end, it’s Old Stan who offers to treat everyone as a way to congratulate the graduates. Shuri suspects he actually has a crush on Aunt May and does so to get some brownie points as well. Only Peter grumbles some about tasting his aunt’s cuisine yet again, though Shuri notices he nearly cries of pleasure when a waitress drops a mouth watering maple creampie in front of him.

There are many conversations flowing as she tastes he own pie- including a vicious battle of cat puns between Peter and Ned. Her taste-buds seize the velvety taste of whipped cream combined with the crisp of chopped pecans and she is close to squealing. At one point, she gets some powdered sugar on her cheek. Bucky is on her left and as soon as he he notices, he reaches for her face so his thumb softly wipes the stain away. Food almost goes down the wrong way as her ears redden with tingling pleasure.

He’s not decked in his usual oversize shirts today. Instead, he’s clothed in a tailored pastel blue shirt and dress pants adorned with red wine suspenders. Handsome as a prince.

“You’re such a messy eater”, he grins.

She sticks her tongue out before using her fork to steal a bite of Bucky’s pie. He avenges himself by flicking her forehead.

The adults are retelling memories of their own graduations when Shuri leaves the table for a bathroom break. When she returns, Bucky and Steve are out of sight, though their jackets are still pooling at their assigned seats. Then Aunt May offers to bring more pie to the table at the sight of their empty plates, and though Shuri’s stomach is already full, she volunteers to seek out the boys and hand over the proposal. It’s half generous and half selfish because she does love the sound of her small heels slamming the tiled floor of the diner.

No need for her to look around a lot since Aunt May’s is packed today. She knows there’s a small terrace overlooking the forest at the far back of the establishment and assumes a jaunty stride as she nears it.

She catches Steve’s voice first when her hand hovers on the handle of the double glass door.

“ _Are you sure you're ready to leave_ ?”

* * *

“Are you sure about that, Buck ?”, Steve says again, unaware of the way Shuri’s heartbeat just slammed against her ribcage. Ever so slowly, her fingers slide away from the handle.

They cannot see her as they’re turned around and staring ahead.

“My mind is made up. I won’t back down”, Bucky gruffs.

“But-”

“God, you’re such a punk. You’re the one who talked me about the army’s buddy program and now, you wanna chicken out.”

Shuri has trouble swallowing then. Remains helpless as her worst suspicions come true. The pain of loss looming close again.

Bucky is talking about leaving. Bucky doesn’t want to stay.

She has no idea what a buddy program is and internally scoffs at the idea of it. As if the army were a nice vacation place for buddies anyway.

“I’m not. It’s just that...I’m an orphan, Buck. Been relying on myself for ages. But you’re not. You still have your mom. You don’t need to go out there and follow me.”

There’s a silence. She mentally notes to give Steve a warm hug for being so sensible. Bucky cannot leave. _It’s unthinkable_.

“I know what I’m going to lose when I leave, Steve. I know. But I’m ready.”

“I should have never talked to you about this. Fuck me, man”

“Steve, you’re my best friend. There’s no way I’m lettin’ your punk little ass go into basic training by yourself. Besides, I’ve been thinkin’ about the army for ages. So you’ll have to suffer me till the end of the line.”

Steve snorts a laugh out of resignation more than mirth. Shuri’s breath hitches. She brings her arms to hug herself, brushing against her flare sleeves in the process. Bucky has never sounded so purposeful before. In the back of her mind, the fortune teller’s warning is haunting. Maybe she was right. Maybe Shuri needs to save Bucky. The only way she knows how is to make him change his mind. But it seems she can’t exactly pout her way into it this time.

“Alright. But you’re gonna have to tell them all eventually. I assume your mother already knows.”

Bucky sighs. “She does and she doesn’t exactly approve but it’s my life to live.”

“Does she know ?”

“Sharon doesn’t need to know. Besides, I don't think she cares about me that much.”

“Buck, I’m not talking about Sharon. I meant Shuri. _Does she know_ ?”

Another silence.

“She really looks up to you. You’re very important to her.”

“She’s very important to me too...”, Bucky drawls.

Shuri almost falls to her knees, practically feeling her blood battering at her temples.

“We only have one month, pal”, Steve breathes.

Bucky nods. “ _I know_...”

It’s way too much for her to take then. She opens the door on the fly.

The boys whip their heads in perfect synchronicity. They look slightly alarmed. Steve looks back and forth between Bucky and her with furrowed brows.

And though Shuri’s heart is angrily beating in her chest, though she’s short of breath and her gaze is probably misty, she puts on a cheery tone. She doesn’t want them to know she just eavesdropped on their conversation. She tries to glide her sweaty palms along her dress to dry the sweat off but it doesn’t work. “There’s some maple pie leftovers if you guys are interested”, she enunciates, trying to sound as upbeat as possible. Because Steve only knows her furtively, he buys the act and nods, squeezing Bucky’s shoulder before walking past Shuri. But Bucky’s gaze is piercing. He knows.

“Shuri-”

“You better hurry cause there will be no more left if you don’t, Buck”, she says way too abruptly. It’s the only cleft in her façade. She tries for a broader smile then.

It looks like Bucky is considering prying the truth out of her but he only looks down before bowing his neck.

He stops at her level after three strides. Shuri clutches the hem of her dress with a vice grip.

“Thank you for coming to get us”, he says softly and she catches some traces of regret in his voice.

The door closes with a quiet thump then, leaving Shuri to be surrounded by the sounds of nature entwined with the rumble of a car’s engine starting somewhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Tell me what you think if you enjoyed the update. I need all the incentive I can get <3


	8. Milestones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one lacks Bucky/Shuri interactions but it's important to focus on Shuri's relationship with her father for me.  
> 

Her mother keeps asking how she feels as they prepare her luggage the night before her trip to New-York. She’s never taken her father’s offer to spend vacations before. It’s been a week since she heard Bucky enlisted at the diner, and they have not spoken since then. Shuri is not ready to confront him about it just yet.

Right now, she prefers to run away, preferably in a different state.

“Are you sure you’re bringing enough socks ?”, Ramonda says, lightly tugging on a drawer to peer at what’s inside. Shuri’s cheeks redden instantly when her mother picks up a padded bra. She didn’t buy that one with her mother but with MJ instead. Ramonda usually purchases comfy but plain underwear for her daughter. Shuri knows she doesn’t have nearly enough breasts to pull up yet. They feel more like mosquito bites than boobs. Still, she fell in love with the purple lace and loves to secretly put it on.

Thankfully, her mother hums without making any comment and pushes the drawer with caution.

Shuri’s suitcase is nearly overflowing with clothes and it takes them a solid five minutes to close the thing down. She’s still sitting on it when her mother enquires about how she really feels at the idea of spending the next week with her father and his girlfriend.

“You don’t need to go just to please your father, dearest. T’Chaka is grown enough to understand. Besides, if he wants to see you so much, he can take some days off work and come here instead.”

Shuri shrugs. Ever since the divorce was settled, it was her father who made the effort to spend some Christmas eves in their small town. He never forced Shuri to come anywhere. Back then, Shuri wanted her father to reject his staid nature and insist on bringing her to live with him in New-York. Maybe fight for her custody instead of being so complacent with her mother’s decisions. It wouldn’t have been difficult for him since he’s a family lawyer himself. She figures the crippling guilt of cheating on Ramonda with the nineteen year old babysitter hindered him from exercising his rights.

He left everything to her mother then. The car. The house.

“You know I don’t mind going there. I’ve always wanted to see New-York up close.”

And Shuri is being honest there. She’s truly intrigued about the Big Apple, eager to see ho the real thing compares to sitcoms, and mostly excited for the opportunity of visiting Planetarium Hayden like she always dreamed to.

“Alright”, Ramonda drawls.

Then she sits on Shuri’s bed, and looks around the room. Not so much has changed over the years. There’s still posters of science fairs and prominent figures on the walls. The solar system still spans an entire wall, a black board is covered in Shuri’s scribbling and there’s a cabinet unit that is solely dedicated to scale models of space rockets. It’s only the light pink vanity and Shuri’s growing interest for fashion magazines that reminds Ramonda of how mundane a teenage girl she actually is.

“Be careful out there, Riri. I’m gonna miss you.”

Shuri huffs a tender sigh and gets up to give her mother a bear hug. They both fall back on freshly laundered sheets then. Ramonda wheezes out a laugh with Shuri’s weight put on top of her.

“You’re so dramatic, mama. I’ll be back in no time. It’s just next weekend.”

“But you’re taking the plane for the first time...”

Shuri rolls her eyes. “You paid for minor accompanied service. I’ll be fine.”

“So you’re not scared of planes ?”, the older woman teases, though she already knows the answer.

“The death rate is actually 750 times higher per mile by vehicle than for flying in a commercial plane”, Shuri enunciates, giving her mother a dead eyed stare.

Ramonda tugs a braid behind her ear.

“I always wonder where you store all that useless information.”

“ _It’s not useless at all_ ! That’s why I’m so calm about it. It’s safer being in the air than on the road. There’s less traffic.”

“Please, don’t go rattling off that statistic to the other passengers.”

“Fine. I’ll keep my mouth shut unless they ask me to. But knowledge is power”, Shuri insists before hopping off the bed.

The following day, MJ and Peter come to see her take off. They all babble about how lucky she is and exploits the moment to sneak in the conversation the kind of souvenirs they’d love to get.

“Alright. I’ll see if I have enough place in my suitcase to put the Empire State Building in it”, she teases.

“You can if you buy a miniature version”, Peter outbids, awkwardly jamming his hands inside his pockets. It’s the first time Shuri is the one to leave town. She knows her friends will miss her. MJ and Peter keep tip toeing over their mutual attraction these days. Since Ned is visiting his family back at the Philippines for a month, and Shuri will be out of town for a week, it will leave these two alone. Hopefully, it’s enough to boost the development of whatever they have going on because the air is so charged between these two being near them is close to suffocating.

Shuri opens her arms wide open then, and her best friends draw close for a group hug with light reluctance. She’s pretty sure one of them shudders at the close contact.

The sound of her mother closing the hood of her _Mutsubushi Outlander_ pulls them out of their PDA.

Peter cautiously throws a glance at Bucky’s house then.

“He’s not coming to say goodbye, isn’t he ?”

MJ elbows him as soon as he finishes his sentence.

“There’s no need. Anyway, the garage is closed for two weeks so he’s working as a lifeguard at the lake. He’s busy.”

Shuri hums at that. Another piece of information about Bucky she didn’t know about. They seem to be piling up these days. Lake Metea is a gorgeous spot in the summer. She thinks of the quiet cottages surrounding the area. Thinks of pretty girls with barely contained curves in their small bikinis.

She swallows hard.

“Good for him.”

Then she tries to shake the melancholy and resentment by shaking her head. She reiterates her promise to bring one of her friends at her father’s for next time before getting into the passenger’s seat.

Her treacherous eyes linger on Bucky’s house while her mother starts the engine.

“Ready to go”, Ramonda says.

Shuri turns to see her mother face and gives a lopsided smile.

“ _Ready_.”

* * *

The entire trip from her small town to Burlington’s airport is actually longer than the flight to New York itself. Shuri recounts getting her luggage and footwear through an X ray machine as the height of her trip but overall, flight procedures are rather boring. Thankfully, she has a cheery eurasian woman named Mantis to help her through the whole process. They've both bonded over their love for space during the flight.

In the end, the plane lands at LaGuardia at exactly 8:30 pm. Shuri is both relieved and a tad disappointed because she wanted to babble with Mantis for more. She’s probably the coolest person Shuri has ever met. Worked so many different jobs she might as well have nine lives.

Mantis escorts her through the arrival gate as she tries to save a mental snapshot of everything. The buzzing activity reminds her of an anthill.

She’s never seen this much life and heard this many languages in a single place. Her heart beats with trepidation at more to come.

“You look like you just arrived at Disneyland”, Mantis quips at Shuri’s bemused face. She instantly closes her gaping mouth. Clutches the straps of her backpack.

“It’s my first time in an airport. I’ve seen in movies and stuff but...it’s much more alive than I thought”, she confesses.

Mantis acquiesces with a nod before turning her attention to the booking form. She’s not very tall so Shuri easily peeks at the folder where she reads her father’s name.

Without long, she recognizes his face in the crowd. He casually strides in their direction but his face is so open, so happy Shuri nearly feels a pang of regret about not coming sooner.

He cautiously takes his ID out of his wallet to show it to Mantis after bowing his neck to the both of them. Mantis ensures the connection with the form and then, without further ado, Shuri is lifted in her baba’s arms and his booming laugh echoes against the walls. Shuri forgets about the smell of hand sanitizer mixed with leather and warm wafts of perfume in the air. She forgets about the small anxiety she felt before the flight, focusing on her father instead. Inhales his typical smell of sweet almond oil and leather for the first time in two years.

“ _My usana_ ”, T’Chaka says with a throaty voice. He pecks Shuri’s temple before letting Shuri on the ground again, though his arms are still around her shoulders, as if to check she is real and safe in front of him.

“ _Umkhulu khakulu_ , Shuri. My baby is so big now !”

Shuri doesn’t speak Xhosa fluently. It stays a heated object of debate between her parents, since Ramonda didn’t teach the language to her daughter as diligently as T’Chaka wanted her to. Her mother has always been more about fitting in and allowing Shuri to grow like any other American kid.

Shuri usually doesn’t feel self conscious about her lack of skills in the language department but though she understands the love in her father’s words, she cannot exactly translate it.

Her father puts his arm around her shoulder then and gently squeezes before pulling away to thank Mantis conscientiously. The woman is all flustered about it and frantically waves her hands when T’Chaka bends his body in half. The awkwardness of the situation is not lost on Shuri but she doesn’t help because it’s also hilarious.

“You don’t need to thank me ! Your daughter is very bright. It’s been a pleasure to travel in her company.”

Shuri beams at the compliment. T’Chaka turns towards her, a fond and pride smile stretching his plump lips while he readjusts his glasses. Then he gestures at Shuri to give him her suitcase.

* * *

A jaunty african music fills the cabin. If she’s any good at knowing her classics, Shuri would say it’s a song from the Kabba Brothers, a group from Sierra Leone. Then the music switches to Sister Slege’s _We are family_ and she has to hide her face in her hands as T’Chaka mouths the lyrics in a way she finds both adorable and funny. He casually leads them on their twenty minute drive from Queens to his apartment in Midtown East. He excitedly announces the place is less than one mile away from the Museum of Modern art. Every two minutes, he also checks on her, until Shuri fakes the need to take a short nap so he stops fussing over her like she’s a baby.

She doesn’t miss a lick of the city lights at night, and practically presses her nose against the glass to feast some more on the sight while her father focuses on the road.

She actually dozes the last few minutes of the ride and her eyes are groggy when her father announces they’ve finally arrived home. Shuri peeks at the four storey, red brick building. The sidewalk is bordered by tall trees, the streets are cleaner than she thought they would be and somewhere at the back of her mind, she could definitely see herself living in some place like this in the future. In a city who keeps on living at night. This prospect makes her both happy and terrified.

T’Chaka jokes about living on the last floor without any elevator as he retrieves her suitcase from the car’s trunk. It turns out there actually is one but her father is a little claustrophobic when it comes to this so they take the maze of stairs instead.

Shuri feels like she can finally breathe properly when she’s in his home.

Then she’s reminded her father doesn’t actually live alone. There’s the scent of coconut rice and grilled fish in the air, and the clanking of dishes coming from the kitchen.

“Honey, we’re home”, he announces with a ceremonious tone. Shuri bites the inside of her cheek at that.

High heels clicking on the floor is followed by a joyous, feminine laugh till Aneka appears in front of them, an apron tightly knotted around her slim waist. Shuri notices she’s cut her hair short and natural from the last time she’s seen her. She’s glad she’s got T’Chaka for herself, as little as it lasted.

“Welcome to New York, Shuri ! I’m so happy to see you here”, she gushes. The slight tremble in her hands as she dries them in her apron tells another story to Shuri but she forces a smile.

“Thank you for having me”, she says, deliberately keeping her hands on the lapels of her backpack so Aneka doesn’t get any idea of a hug.

* * *

She’s running her fingers over the smooth rainbow book case that spans an entire wall in the living room when she feels her father looming close and taking seat in a comfy chair beside her.

The section at her eye level is mostly composed of works on Criminal Science and detective novels. Shuri briefly smiles at T’Chaka before picking _Death Comes as the End_ off the shelf. She read this one at ten and ever since, it’s been one of her favorites. As much as she obsesses about the future and technology, Shuri loves historical mysteries where civilians turn into amateur detectives, in a time where there’s no forensics team to collect hand-prints or run any other analysis based on science.

She settles in the chair opposite her father then. Its mustard cushion is as soft as foam and she almost sinks into it.

“This one’s your favorite too ?”, she asks while mindlessly flipping through the pages. T’Chaka clears his throat then.

“No. Actually...it’s actually Aneka’s favorite book.”

Shuri freezes just so before humming and flipping through the pages so fast the words might actually get animated. It’s a funny coincidence that T’Chaka’s girlfriend does love this book. The one story of an old pharaoh bringing a much younger wife home and weakening his relationship with his family by engaging in such a marriage.

“She’s a fan of crime thrillers. I don’t get how she can read this stuff before going to bed”, her father chuckles.

Shuri shrugs then gets up to set the book back in its place.

“I prefer documentaries”, she mumbles, though she notices the three other editions of the same book.

The last tier of the bookcase is more colorful, and contains a few children’s books neighboring tasteful trinkets. Her stomach does a small flip at the idea of her father having another child. Her hand instinctively fists the top of her pyjamas.

“ _What’s the matter, Sithandwa_ ?”

Shuri swallows before turning around.

“M’fine”, she mutters.

T’Chaka shakes his head.

“You sure ? You can tell me if somethin’ happened back there. Are you running away from your mother ?”

Shuri frantically shakes her head.

“No. Of course I’m not.”

“Then what ?”

She releases a shuddering sigh before drawing close and sitting on armrest of her father’s chair. Looks down to her small hands. T’Chaka nods to nudge her into talking.

“I might just be escaping from someone”, she whispers.

A crease forms on his forehead as he straightens. “ _Someone from school is bothering you_?”

“No”, she sighs, “It’s not...actually it’s not that they’re mean to me. It’s the opposite. I really like them.”

A silence follows her statement then a relieved sigh.

“Then there’s no need to worry. Breaking hearts and getting your heart broken is part of the teenage experience.”

Shuri ponders over that for a minute. Then she locks eyes with her father.

“I don’t know. They’re gonna leave soon. And we are supposed to be friends but they didn’t tell me anything about leaving. That’s cruel...”

Her father’s warm and rugged hand cradles the back of her neck then.

“I’m sorry, _si_ _t_ _handwa...”_

“It’s not your fault”, she says, though deep down, she knows she’ll always suffer some sort of abandonment issues because of her parent's divorce. People always leave. She should have staid logical and seen that one coming from miles away.

“I still am. Might be old but I know my stuff. It’s hard growing up.”

Shuri can only nod at that.

“Your friend probably didn’t want you to worry over them”, T’Chaka adds. “They might have wanted to spend your last moments together as if you’d never part. So you stay natural until the very end.”

“ _Probably_...”, she repeats without much conviction, head hung in sadness.

T’Chaka forces her to look up by gently raising her chin with his hand.

“Forget about whatever silly boy is plaguing your mind. They’re not worth it if they make you this sad, bibi. It’s your summer vacation and your first time in New-York. You have to make the most of it and _have fun_. No worries, no overthinking, okay ?”

Shuri offers a small, lopsided smile then, shutting her eyes when her baba presses another resounding kiss against her forehead.

His receding hairline doesn’t take off how vivid and young his eyes still look. There’s an awkward kindness and refined charm to him. Shuri is not so bothered another woman saw that besides her mother then.

Feeling a little replenished thanks to his words, she hops off the chair. Turns around when he calls after her again, while her hands skim the frame of the door.

“I’ve got very important business meetings tomorrow so I’ve asked Aneka to ride into town with you. Is that okay ?”

Her eyes lower to the purple rug before she locks gazes with him. The lights are subdued now, and he somehow looks smaller and shriveled in his seat.

She’s as honest as she can be when she replies.

“I don’t mind. Not so much.”

T’Chaka takes it as approval then and sinks back into his chair with a satisfied smile.

Shuri nods before walking towards the guest room.

And as hard as she tries to quiet her mind that night, wrapped up in freshly laundered sheets, she can still see Bucky beneath her lids.


	9. Serendipity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote most of this one my phone so excuse my typos.

Eventually, Shuri ends up spending another additional week in New-York. She doesn't only make the decision because her father and Aneka generiusly offer it and she falls in love with the city faster than a heartbeat. It's also a sneaky way to delay having to talk with Bucky. 

Shuri hides from Bucky but cannot hide from her mom. Ramonda doesn't take kindly the idea of Shuri's vacation not going according to plan. She's reminded her mother is a bit of a control freak then. 

Paces the apartment with her mother's voice in her ear, and a flyer for a Summer Science fair in her hand while Ramonda rattles something about T'Chaka not respecting their arrangement and being sorely disappointed, promising never to send Shuri over again.

"So you're not gonna come back before one more week ? Why ?"

Shuri huffs a tired sigh. 

"I just wanna stay spend more time with Baba and I like it here in Manhattan. I just wanted you to know..."

"But your flight is already booked."

"Baba is taking care of everything, mama. Relax..."

There's a threatening silence that makes Shuri afraid of having said soething hurtful. But then, Ramonda releases a small sigh and yields. 

"Is this what you really want ? No one is guilting you into it ?"

Shuri shakes her head though her mother cannot see.

"I was the one who said I was not reay to come come home yet", she confesses.

Her mother hums then walks right into where Shuri didn't expect her.

"Is this about Bucky, dearest ?"

Her breath somewhat catches in her throat. 

"Why are you saying that ?"

"I carried you for nine months and pushed you out of my yoni, Shuri. Of course, I know what you hide in your genius little head."

Shuri snorts then sobers when Aneka throws her a questioning gaze. She's snuggled up against T'Chaka as Shuri speaks, the both of them watching a NCIS rerun. 

Shuri signals she's going with the phone into her bedroom for more privacy. 

She closes the door after herself.

"Don't ever say that word again", she pleads. 

"What word ?"

"Yoni", Shuri grimaces as she talks. 

"What's wrong with it ? Yoni. Coochie. Vagina. Riri, I'm a doctor. No need to be shy."

"Yeah exactly. You're my epic doctor mama so please, say the medical words. Yoni is embarassing.."

Shuri could almost see her mother's eyes rolling back all the way to New York. 

"Forget I said it. What's going on with you and Bucky ?"

Shuri keeps silent a bit, running through logical answers to give. 

"Nothin'..."

"Shuri", her mother drawls with impatience. 

It doesn't take Shuri long to lay down her weapons and sit on the bed. 

"Okay. I think Bucky enlisted. Pretty sure he did. "

"Well that explains a lot."

"Really ?"

"Winnifred was barely holding it together at his graduation. She must be worried sick over him."

Shuri hums. "But he didn't say anything to me, mama. I thought we were bestfriends."

"I know, dearest. I'm sure he didn't to hurt you. He was probably protecting you by not saying anything yet."

"I'm not a baby", Shuri grits. 

Her mother ignores the teenage rant that threatens to burst. 

"To be honest, I'm a little relieved it's just that."

"Wh-what ? How ?"

"Look, Riri. Don't get angry but some patients of mine have been talking. They were kinda worried. Worried that Bucky might have been taking advantage of you."

Her heart nearly Comes to a standstill. She keeps the burgeoning anger at bay enough to hiss out words of confusion. 

"That's stupid. Idiots. _Morons_ "

"Shuri-"

"Please tell me you didn't believe them, mama..."

"Of course not. But don't be too hard on them. They only have your best intentions at heart. You two have a very unusual friendship."

"I'm fourteen."

"And Bucky is four years older. Still a teenager but a young man with all the hormones that go with it. Riri, I trust Bucky with you. I would have never let him babysit you otherwise. Promise."

Shuri hums noncomittally. 

"Okay then."

"Alright."

Pacified but still miffed, Shuri considers making up an excuse to end the call. 

"I know Bucky would always be appropriate", her mother adds, sounding wistful. "But I was worried about you following your Heart and being reckless."

Shuri's eyes dart to the ground. She can't say the idea of professing her love to Bucky and asking him to become hers never crossed her mind. But it doesn't grow further than affectionate kisses and hand holding in her head. Though her body says different with her menstrual cycle and the flush that creeps up her core when he hovers by. She is young, still way too impressionnable for her own liking and assurely not ready for sex. The tales going around town about girls her age going out with much older guys,who are nowhere near's Bucky chivalry, actually make her nails dig half moons in the palm of her hand. 

Her expression closes up.

"I don't plan on doing anything about this crush, mama. I'm gonna move on."

And somehow, the idea of getting pvert Bucky, not feeling those butterflies tickling her stomach when he's near, this makes her inctedibly sad. 

Ramonda keeps silent then. Shuri keeps going, rattling her own analysis. Loical and practical.

"It's just a silly crush anyway. I'm gonna grow out of it as soon as he leaves. You said it yourself. It's not appropriate. Anyway, the only reason I like him is because he became my baby-sitter after baba left and we spent a lot of time together. My brain just mixed things up cause he was the only male figure who took care of me then. That's why it keeps going. But I'll forget about him someday."

Her mother's long drawn 'alright' tells Shuri she didn't believe a lick of her speech then.

* * *

There's so many things to do in New York, so much to explore. Shuri does exactly that during two weeks. Spends her first three days focusing on gift shopping. Picks a cheap Magic Johnson shirt for Ned in a boutique on the fifth avenue, a key ring in the form of a baseball glove for Peter because he loves the Yankees. As for MJ, Shuri visits the Yellow Rat Bastard store and picks up a cool T-shirt. Getting a gift for Bucky is the hardest because it will be a separation gift. The second week rolls around before she gets any idea of what to purchase.

Overall, the experience of visiting the Hayden Planetarium is a dream come true. It's been opened to the public for a year and half and she's been dying to come ever since. But the discovery she makes there doesn't concern celestial artefacts. Shuri realizes right then, beneath the stars, that though she loves space, she doesn't wanna become an astrophysicist anymore. 

It used to remind her to stay humble, the fact of the earth only being a small dice in the universe. But now, stars and planets make her feel small and Shuri is tired of feeling less than. 

Still, there's a promise to reach for the moon and stars when she walks through a pathway retelling the Big Bang with feverish hands. Her eyes and ears perk at everything. 

Nothing is set in stone yet but she makes a promise to herself. Swears she'll try her best to smash boundaries and limitations. Make a change. Then one day, she might just be up there, her photographs plastered on the wall beside her idols. 

She's sad when she realizes the general high school curriculum will not be enough for her brain to feast on. She needs to be challenged more. So much more. So she makes a mental note to research on gifted and talented programs as soon as she gets back at her father's home. Eventually, her father notices and says he'll be very happy to have her live with Aneka and him if Shuri happens to enroll somewhere in New-York. There's a few schools and private institutions in the city delivering gifted programs. He makes a few calls to help her research and in the end, they come up with a thick folder which emcompasses four different states. 

Shuri can already see the pride in her father's eyes so she tries to temper his enthusiasm and hers by the same occasion. 

There will be tests and hearings to measure her intelligence as well as her social skills. And she has yet to talk to her mother about it. Still feels a little trepidation at the idea to be honest.

"This is your chance to fight for your dreams", her father says as he insists on tucking her in one night. 

"I don't wanna live mama alone though", Shuri whispers, jaw turning slack with the need to sleep. 

Her baba boops her nose and tuts.

"Stop acting like you're the parent when you're the child. I know your mother wants your happiness' more than anything. She'll come around."

"But she was so sad when you left", Shuri whispers. 

The lights are subdued and there's a dark orange glaze to the guestroom. It's silent suddenly. Shuri sees the way his gaze shines. 

"I'm sorry", he whispers back. 

Her throat gets tight then. She has to tell. He needs to know. 

"I heard mama more than once in the bathroom. She cried a lot, you know. Never in front of me. But when she thought I stopped looking, she was sad."

T'Chaka nods. "I wouldn't have guessed. Your mother is such a fiery woman. So strong."

Shuri submits to a yawn in spite of herself. Her eyes start to droop. Her lashes flutter while her father brushes braids away from her face. 

"Mama is strong", she tries, "But just because she's strong doesn't mean she has to be alone. I want someone to protect her when I'm gone..."

"You're right... I'm sorry it took me so long to understand. You're truly wise beyond your years."

Shuri gives a slack grin. 

"That's cause I'm a genius, baba."

Her father chuckles then bends to kiss her forehead before pulling up the covers. Shuri settles on her side then.

Her breathing slows, and she's about to slip into the land of dreams when he speaks some more. 

"Goodnight, sithandwa. And always remember, just because your name means village in Japanese doesn't mean you have to stay inside the village. You're young, full of life and brilliant. You have to dream big."

And with that, Shuri sleeps with a curve in her lips for the first time since her arrival.

* * *

After spending two hours shopping at the Rockefeller Center, Shuri gratefully accepts her father's girlfriend offer to take some rest in Central Park. They stroll around leisurely, drinking their starbucks. Then Aneka suggests sitting beneath a tree that provides enough shade while letting warm sunrays shine through its thick limbs. The woman lays down a pareo for them to sit on. Shuri seats cross legged and keeps up with the last messages on her pager as Aneka opens a book.

Peter says 0773, their personal code to say hello. Her mother wants Shuri to call back. She also receives a long code from MJ: 41*705312, and furrows her brows before chuckling when she registers the meaning of the message. " _Hi, loser"_.

Her thumb stills at the last message. It's from Bucky, and he's relied on numericals too this time.

> 1*177155*400
> 
> _I miss you_

Her jaw tightens. She doesn't have the time to ponder over suppressing the message or replying to it later though. In a flash, her entire body is thrown backwards, something warm and slimy lapping at her face while her hands brush against thick fur.

She wears a woman screaming in the distance. Chuckles as she tries to regain her balance though the dog has its heavy paws digging into her shoulders to better lick at her face. She's saved from her entire face turning to slobber by Aneka, who tugs on the German Shepherd's collar to drag him back.

Shuri wipes the dampness from her cheeks as the dog's owner jogs in their direction.

"I'm sorry, God, I'm so sorry", they blurt, flailing their arms about.

Then the owner, a blonde girl, freezes. So does Shuri.

Their style is completely different from what she remembers. Ripped jeans, spiked bracelets, close cropped hair and a t-shirt that screams death metal in dripping red and white letters.

But the face stays delicate, even though the eyes are hooded with dark eyeshadow.

Shuri blinks back at Sharon stupidly while she rattles more excuses to Aneka. 

She bends to berate dog, which name is Coulson. The sight is surreal. Sharon Carter with grass stains on her ripped denims. Sharon Carter with thick Dr.Martens. Sharon Carter talking to an unruly dog. 

It takes the other girl more time to recognize Shuri but gasps excitedly when she does. Shuri is pulled into a short but affectionate hug before she can fully process her thoughts.

"I can't belive that ! It's awesome", Sharon says, beaming.

She takes hold of the leash then, scratches the top of the dog's head all the while to placate him, as she stares at Shuri with a fond smile. It's both flattering and incredibly awkward.

"Hi", Shuri tries, dusting grass from her knees. It's lame, she knows. 

"You guys already know each other", Aneka offers, putting her sunglasses back on her head to study Sharon with a circonspect look, as if the two girls couldn't possibly be friends. Shuri figures she's not far from the truth.

Sharon and her are acquaintances at best. 

_And rivals in love,_ her treacherous heart suggests.

"We have a mutual friend", Sharon says, honest as ever. "He's said to me a lot about Shuri and I feel like I know her too now."

Shuri's interest is pricked then. Bucky talked about her to Sharon. He thought of her when spending time with his crush.

"You guys have any plans this afternoon ?", Sharon asks, turning to Aneka.

Her father's girlfriend steals a questioning glance at Shuri, but she's too stunned to do anything about it. The odds are ridiculous. Coming across your neigbors or teachers or church members is bound to happen daily in a small town but New-York is not a small town.

_Why does she have to see Sharon Carter there ?_

Aneka turns around to retrieve Shuri's hat. She dusts it before handing it over and Shuri says a thanks so quiet it's almost inaudible.

"Well, our only goal was to rest. Maybe take a bite somewhere else later."

Sharon nods. "Sounds cool." Then she faces Shuri. The dog, Coulson, proceeds to bark. 

"I'd really love to catch up with you, Shuri, but I'm on dogsitting duty so..."

The silence lays thick and suggestive. Sharon basically throws a pleading look at Aneka. The other woman crosses her arms, a teasing smile tugging at her lips. Shuri finally gets the urge to butt in instead of being an idle spectator.

"Yeah, that's too bad", she says.

"I could always take care of this big boy", Aneka offers, bending on one knee to pat Coulson. The dog barks excitedly at the prospect, and steals a broad lick at Aneka's face. Shuri expects her to complain about her expensive makeup but she does no such thing. Aneka giggles like a schoolgirl. Shuri freezes. She would have never taken her father's girlfriend for a dog person, since everything about her screams femininity and feline. Down to her slanted eyes and perfectly manicured hands.

And she's a little hurt that Aneka is so eager to live her alone with Sharon. Despite the stunning weather, cold seeps in her bones.

"I had a dog just as wild as this one when I was a child", Aneka confesses with a smile.

 _"Really_ ?", Shuri and Sharon say in unison.

"Yeah."

"What happened ?", Shuri asks, intrigued.

Aneka gets a wistful look in her eyes then.

"He bit someone to protect me and...they put him down."

Sharon curses in her breath at that, another novelty for Shuri. Though she lingers on Aneka's face more and the way she babbles compliments about the German Shepherd. Shuri can still see some traces of sadness in her façade.

Somehow, she wants to erase that melancholy.

"And what was his name ?", she enquires again.

"Mickey", the woman replies with a dimpled smile.

Shuri nods then turns to Sharon, jamming her hands in the pockets of her shorts.

"We could go for some ice cream", she offers tentatively.

Sharon nods with enthusiasm. "Of course !"

They don't stray far away to pacify both Aneka and Coulson and settle for an ice cream van next to the Hecksher playground. There's excited yelping sounds coming from the carousel nearby, and Shuri hums the sugary scents in the air.

She picks up a sorbet with lemon and raspberry, her favorite flavors. Sharon goes for something more adult like: mint chocolate chip. Shuri's face flushes when she realizes she acutally left her bag with Aneka and came empty-handed. But Sharon beams and says she'll treat her.

The ice cream is served into cups made of card stock. Shuri likes it. It adds some fanciness to it while being recyclable. Both girls enjoy their frozen delicacies in silence before Shuri offers conversation.

"Are you here for vacation too ?"

Sharon shakes her head no. "That's actually my job."

Shuri pauses visibly, furrowing her brows.

"I thought you were into med school..."

"I dropped out", Sharon says, just like that, before taking another spoonful of mint chocolate chip and grinning at the taste. Shuri's mouth twitches while she digs into her own.

"So you babysit dogs now..."

Sharon nods vigorously. There's a glint in her eyes when she starts to babble. Says she's never been into medicine in the first place and only followed through because of her father's wish. But she's met someone a few months ago, and now, she's sick of letting other people's desires come before her own. Says she always enjoyed dogs but her mother has an allergy and that though she doesn't plan on dogsitting Coulson forever, she might as well consider learning the skills to start dog sitting entrepreuneurship.

"The person you met", Shuri trails," Is Coulson their dog ?"

Sharon guffaws in laughter then. 

"Hell no ! I don't like Fury like that", she giggles, and Shuri arches a brow questioningly. Then Sharon explains Nick Fury is actually her landlord's name and the dog's owner. He took Sharon under his wing when she needed the most guidance. And Sharon is actually crushing on Maria Hill, Fury's assistant.

It takes a few seconds for the puzzle pieces to slot properly in Shuri's brain.

"So you're a lesbian", she almost screams.

"Bisexual", Sharon corrects, leaning on her elbows with nonchalance, ignoring the curious gazes thrown her way by clients nearby.

"Sorry", Shuri blurts before hiding her face in her cup.

"I like boys and girls", Sharon adds. "But you already know the former. You saw me with Bucky..."

Shuri nods, and a prickling sense of shame etches its way into her pores. Why is she feeling so elated Sharon moved on from him ? He's probably broken hearted as they speak. Maybe that's why he wants to become a soldier. He wants to leave everything behind because Sharon dumped him.

"You...You broke up with Bucky."

Sharon takes a pause, darts her eyes to the table.

"In a way, yes. But I think he broke up with me long enough before that. The main reason we started anything was because I wanted to prove everyone how straight I was. Bucky saw how much I suffered form it. He's the one who told me to live on my own terms, you know."

Shuri feels her cheest brim with affection and pride. Sharon leans in to steal some of her sorbet. Shuri half heartedy tries to stop her endeavour.

"It's funny though, isn't it ?"

"What's so funny", Shuri asks, scraping the bottom of her cup.

"We both have the same first love", Sharon says.

Shuri blushes then, thanking God for rich her dark skin is. Though the way she stammers over her words is not lost on Sharon.

* * *

"I hope you don't hate me so much now. I never planned to take Bucky away from you", Sharon teases as they walk back to meet Aneka and Coulson.

"Not anymore", Shuri replies with just as much cheek, and that makes Sharon's laugh high and clear like a carillon. They chitchat some more, and Sharon lets Aneka feed Coulson some treats before she explains she must go.

The mood falls when the blonde asks Shuri to keep Bucky out of trouble for her. Sadness clouds Sharon's features as Shuri explains Bucky's wish to enlist curtly.

"Guess what ? I'm not surprised. He's been thinking about this for way too long", Sharon sighs. "I didn't think he'd follow through though."

Shuri rubs her own arms for comfort then.

"If anyone can reason him, Shuri, it's you. Did you try talking him out of it ?"

Shuri shakes her head.

"No. I don't know how to anyway. It's his decision," she breathes.

"But he elected to take a very stupid one as most boys do", Sharon says. Then she smiles down at Coulson who's been repeatedly trying to rip her arm off by tugging on leash. Probably because he saw some squirrel once again. Aneka says he's been chasing one earlier.

"Anyway, it was super nice catching up with you, Shuri. Don't tell this to anyone else but I'm rooting for you."

Shuri blushes, and looks away.

"Bye guys and good luck..", Sharon says, the rest of her sentence dying down in a blur of muttered curses as the dog practically leaps in the air and forces her to move so she doesn't lose her footing.

Aneka turns to face Shuri.

"Hope you guys had fun", she says.

Shuri muses quickly on that. She really did have fun. Recalls the bit where Sharon share her first encounter with Nick Fury in an elevator. Back then, he looked so menacing that when he barked at Coulson to sit, Sharon actually followed through his order as well.

"I did", she smiles as she adjusts her hat.

* * *

She keeps staring at Bucky's unanswered message after she takes a shower and a towel is still wrapped around her body. She gingerly sits at the bed.

Her heart still feels tender everytime she thinks about him. About how much time she exactly misses with him during her vacation.

She wonders about the appropriate pager speak to use. 143 comes to mind _._ _I love you_. Or maybe telling him she misses him as well. 

But she takes a deep breath and ends up typing something else entirely.

> _121._
> 
> _I need to talk to you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my best Bernie voice: "I am once again asking for your feedback.  
> Though my muse has striked back, I love to know what you guys think.


	10. Farewell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The time has come to say goodbye.

It's the end of june and scorching hot outside and her friends suggest a trip at the local pool to stop the ache of feeling like wax statues melting away. 

Shuri appreciates how tactful MJ and Peter are, deliberately avoiding the elephant in the room. So Shuri spares them and offers a trip to Lake Metea herself. She knows Bucky will be there, because people gossip a lot in small towns and she's tired of spending her afternoons at her mother's practice, listening to old ladies say Bucky is a fine young man and their granddaughters all have a crush on him.

It doesn't surprise her that Bucky only has five days left to live in town but he's so dutiful he spends it looking after people at the lake instead of taking some due rest. 

The idea of spending an entire day at the shore doesn't delight her one bit, and not just because she can't swim. Bucky's tried to help before but no matter how genius Shuri is in other field, her lanky limbs stop obeying her when she's in the water. It's phychological. A fear of deep waters.

Old Stan tags along with them that day. He's the only adult available. The others don't get how torn Shuri is with begging him to bring them to the lake but the minute Peter and MJ realize there's no A/C in the car, they turn to her in unison. On top of that, Old Stan's driving style is questionable to say the least. He loves to drive in the middle of the country roads, and only settles abruptly in the right lane when they meet another car. Though it's not Shuri's first rodeo, her heart threatens to leap out of her mouth a few times during the ride. Peter is almost green when the car stops.

They arrive at lake Metea somewhere around 11:30 (MJ slept through her alarm clock). It's shaped like an eight and surrounds a patch of land everyone calls the Isle. It's relatively easy to take long strolls and walk around the lake. Still, the water gets deep and there's enough fishing and swimming going on in the summer to need supervision. 

Shuri has no intention of swimming. Not only is she a bad swimmer but she knows how unhygienic the whole thing is. She still has a one piece swimsuit underneath a sweater, a gift from Aneka, black and covered in chemistry formulas in a perfect imitation of a board.

There's two books in her backpack, sunscreen, a small jar to gather whatever strikes her mind, and most importantly: Bucky's gift. Shuri wrapped it with African fabric instead of traditional gift wrap. It's a nice personal touch she hopes Bucky will appreciate. She doesn't want to give him the gift on their last day. Prefers to ahead to save her some pain. Besides, she wants to show she's open to reconciliation.

He's the first thing she searches for as she nearly leaps out of Old Stan's car and the old man grumbles about her spraining her ankle.

Her eyes roam her surroundings, scrags and happy families scattered on the sandy beach and she squints, making a makeshift cap visor with her hand at how much the sun is hindering her vision.

Bucky is not seated at the tower, nor patrolling at the shore. Her mood almost sinks. She feels MJ tugging at her sweater then. 

"Look over there", she says, and Shuri follows the line of her arm. 

Bucky is standing beside a small group of teens where the shore hugs the water, scolding them as one seems to be in a drunken state. 

Then he turns his head and sees her.

Shuri's heart thuds. She tightens her hold on the lapel of her backpack, blowing out a trembling breath before raising her hand. 

* * *

Bucky asks the chief lifeguard for a pause and is allowed no more than ten minutes. They don't stray far, settle for the small patch of woods beside the cottage which stores most of the lifeguard's utilities. 

Bucky seats at a wooden log and invites her to do the same. Shuri prefers not to. His voice is awfullly gruff when he tells her he's sorry for keeping her in the dark, that he didn't want to hurt her. Shuri cuts him short by digging in her backback and handing the package over to him instead.

He is stunned, and a grin slowly spreads on his face.

Shuri clasps her hands behind her back and stands stiff while he unravels the gift. For a moment, the only sounds noticeable come from the soft rustling of the fabric and fluttering leaves raised by the wind.

Bucky is silent as his fingers uncover his prize. His smile fades. His jaw slightly drops. His eyes roam the journal with a strange look that makes Shuri bite her lip with apprehension.

“It’s a diary made with vegan leather”, she says, offering explanations to make up for his sudden silence. Then she babbles about the design as if she were a store clerk and Bucky was considering buying it, as if the diary wasn’t his already. As if she needed to prove herself. Mentions she’s found it in the traveler’s notebook section at a fancy gift shop in downtown Manhattan. That the cover is studded with obsidian gravel to add more protection so he can really bring it everywhere. And she added her own touch to it in the form of african fabric so he gets to keep the clothe too.

  
“Bucky...”, she tries.

  
His only reaction is repetitive blinking. A wave of heat flocks to Shuri’s face. What if she got it wrong ? What if he doesn’t like it ?

  
“I-I hope you like it”, she mutters.

  
He shakes his head and the gesture causes her shoulders to hunch. But his next move makes her whole center shift. Bucky stands up, reaches for her elbow and tugs her close, her head colliding with his chest in a near painful thump. The arm around her shoulders tightens as he whispers in a voice charged with emotion.

“Thank you, Shuri. Thank you so much.”

Shuri blinks the threatening to mist her vision then shuts her eyes. Her arms wrap around his torso, and she makes a silent prayer for time to stop and indulge the both of them in this bubble of tenderness. Just like this, surrounded by sky reaching trees beside a sparkling lake.

She doesn’t mind that Bucky’s shirt is a little damp nor how she needs to tiptoe to give him the best hug she can. To press her cheek against the spot where his heart is beating. Bucky is here for now, warm and safe in her arms, and it’s all that matters.

Life couldn’t get any better before his warm breath hovers over her forehead almost hesitantly and then, he presses a soft kiss on her forehead. Shuri’s knees almost give out and she has to fist his shirt tighter to anchor herself.

* * *

He does the best he can to ease her worries during the journey home. He uses facts because that’s what settles her mind. Tells her exactly what the army expects of him. The four year deal he signed. Ten weeks of basic training at Fort Jackson, in South Carolina, followed by thirteen weeks of advanced training to become part of the mechanic maintenance team somewhere in eastern Europe. Most probably in Poland.

He says he will be a 91B and as such, he won’t be on the frontlines the way she imagines. 

“I’ll spend more time with trucks and jeeps than rifles, you know”, he says as he escorts her back to her doorstep.

And it helps in a way. To believe that four years from now, it’s more probable for Bucky to return in their little town and start his own garage than have him lose a limb or worse.

It still hurts to know that even if he doesn’t come back with physical scars, the man he will be then won’t be her Bucky anyway. No matter how much Bucky tries to deny it, he will be trained to kill. There’s nothing benign about that. Shuri hopes he doesn’t lose too much of himself. At least, not the most precious parts of him. Not how kind and nurturing he is at heart.

Ramonda offers dinner to Bucky then but he politely declines. Says he wants to make the most of the last moments he’ll get with his own mother. Shuri forces a smile through her dull expression when he walks back and bids her a good evening. Her eyes stay glued to his back. She has difficulty breathing and her shoulders weigh a ton while the distance between them lengthens.

Is that how it’s going to be now ? Them growing apart ? Bucky being out of touch and sight.

Don’t go. _Please, don’t go_ , she wants to scream.

As if he heard her begging, Bucky turns around in the middle of the lane. His face lights up when their eyes meet once again and he waves.

Shuri waves back, forcing herself to bury her terror at the far back of her mind.

Bucky is strong enough to shoulder this. She has to trust in him.

* * *

  
Saying goodbye to Bucky is the hardest thing she’s ever done.

It doesn’t matter how many times she trained in front of her mirror to say goodbye. It’s pointless now. Her eyes well up in spite of herself as she readies to catch up with the group who awaits her down below. There’s been a turnover of visits at the Barnes house all morning from their neighbors. People bringing home cooked meals and snacks. Old faces and new comforting Winnifred, thanking Bucky for his sense of service and wishing him the best. Probably saying they’ll regret seeing his face at the garage. Shuri has spied on it all from the sill of her window without gathering the courage to come down.

Her hands shudder as she struggles to put on the silver necklace Bucky offered her. She peers at the realistic heart and lets out a defeated sigh before trying to secure it at the back of her neck. It’s a practiced move. There’s no reason for her to fail at it and no reason for her frail nerves to make such a big deal out of it. She whines, closing her fist around it, squashing the delicate jewel though she knows she will cry like a baby if it ever breaks. The thought is enough to make her open her hand and peer at the pendant. After a sharp breath intake, she retries. But the jewel entwines with a thread of cotton. Shuri almost loses her mind until she hears her mother’s gentle voice. Ramonda manages to domesticate her enough to stay still. Then her expert hands work at Shuri’s neck. In little time, the string is freed from its prison of cotton and the necklace falls back on Shuri’s chest. She turns around to thank her mother, a little sheepish at how panicked she got for seemingly so little.

  
“You’re gonna be okay, dearest.”

Shuri squeezes her eyes shut, pressing her cheek into her Ramonda’s hand when she strokes her cheek.

  
“I'm a big girl, mama. I don’t wanna cry...”

Ramonda’s mouth twitches. She forces Shuri to look straight ahead by taking her chin in between her fingers. Shuri has a hard time swallowing her emotions.

“Crying is not a sign of weakness, dearest. It shows how much you care. But know that if you wanna put on front while he’s here to ease his mind, I’ll always be there come collect you later.”

Shuri looks away and nibbles on her bottom lip, still contemplating what to do. She doesn’t want Bucky’s last mental picture of her to be one of where snot runs down her nose. But she wants him to know how much she cares about him as well. She wants him to know she doesn’t wanna lose him. Not in the way he thinks. Not in the brotherly sense.

Bucky is her person. She’s known it for a long time, and her heart speaks for herself.

“I love him...”

Her mother’s mouth curves into a satisfied smile.

“I know, Riri. I’ve always known”, she says.

Then her smile fades as she brushes invisible dust off Shuri’s shoulders.

“Are you feeling more ready to say goodbye now ?”

Shuri shakes her head no.

“Do you think I should tell him before he goes ? About my feelings..."

Ramonda is stunned at her question, and blink as she studies Shuri’s face.

“Don’t know. Only if you like doing it, sweetheart. It’s hard enough saying goodbye, you probably don’t wanna add his reaction to your confession as a burden”, she says.

Never mind her mother’s warning, Shuri’s eyes light up at the idea of confessing to Bucky. She’s not gonna say she’s in love with him, obviously. But she wants him to know how much affection she feels for him.

She loves him, simple as that. 

She loves him so much.

* * *

  
"Don't worry, Shuri. I'll keep him in line", Steve says after wrapping Shuri in his arms for a short but heartfelt hug.

Bucky grumbles something about pot and kettles at that. She outbids by saying she'll miss them both and life in their hometown is gonna be so depressing since they're taking all the stupid with them. Steve erupts in laughter then, confessing he would have loved to have a little sister as brash as Shuri.

Then it's time for her to say goodbye to Bucky. Ever the merciful young man, Steve makes an excuse to monitor their luggage again. Ramonda,Winnie and the coach who actually suggested the boys to enlist also stand a few feet back from them to allow them some privacy as well. 

Shuri could have have kissed them all out of gratitude for that.

"So...", Bucky tries without finishing his sentence.

"So...?", she mirrors.

Bucky chuckles and carves a hand in his chocolate strands. She tries to imagine him shaved then realizes she'll be grieving over that loss too. This beautiful mane that keeps falling on his face as his eyes go back and forth between Shuri and the asphalt.

"This is it", he says, jamming his hands in his pockets. 

Shuri hides her own in her back for fear on jumping on him. She tries to save everything she sees. His kind eyes and open expression. His outfit, a signature dark shirt over camouflage pants. How they're both bathed in the warm glow of the sun and the wind is gentle. 

Shuri looks down once before staring at his face. A moment of weakness she hopes will be fleeting before she takes a deep breath to reign on her emotions.

"I'm gonna miss you, Buck. A lot."

"I'm gonna miss you too, sugarpie", he rasps then mumbles something about two weeks long Christmas leaves. 

And like a father or an older brother would, he proceeds to rattle some directions for her. Eat and sleep well. Be good. No dangerous experiments. Always be the smartest person in the room. Good luck, sugarpie. 

Shuri nods to everything, heavy hearted. Hears coach Yondu say goodbye to Winnie and her mother before rounding the car and taking the driver seat. Shuri steals a glance. Yondu would have been her history teacher as well if she didn't intend on joining a gifted and talented program. That would have given her another soothing similarity with Bucky too. 

"Come home, Bucky", she says because she doesn't have anything else in mind, "Please, say you'll come home someday."

That gives him pause as they lock eyes. 

Shuri awaits. The moment stretches long enough for her heartbeat to speed up. Her fight or flight instinct is raging inside her small frame, in the tightness of her shoulders. 

"Your doorstep", he finally breathes. 

She looks up to him. "What ?"

"I'll show up at your doorstep first", he trails, and it takes her an embarassing amount of time to recount this early promise. When she was younger and even more brash, shamelessly commanding for his attention and time. Spoiled in a word. 

She conjures that part of her personality then. 

"You better heh ! I'll never open the door for you again if you go at someone else's house first", she says, puffing her chest and crossing her arms.

Bucky's mouth curves into a smile. 

"If that's how it is, then I have no choice," he says, leaning in to mess with her braids. Shuri doesn't jerk away. She drinks in his touch, her body trembling. It truly warms her heart to know Bucky still remembers that promise. 

He tucks one of her braids behind her ear. 

"I'll show at your doorstep first. So you better be in there when I do, sugarpie."

Shuri offers him her hand with a mock haughty expression, as if they were about to conclude an important business deal. Bucky swats hers playfully before holding his pinky finger up. She giggles. 

"Really, Buck ?"

"Absolutely", he retorts with a cheeky grin. 

Shuri sighs, rolls her eyes prettily before drawing close, and curling her own finger around his. He squeezes gently. Then Shuri's eyes stop shining with sadness only. There's a little mirth, a slice of happiness amidst the pain. A promise. 

She doesn't expect him to catch her wrist and pull her close for a hug. Sighs in relief when he wraps his arms about, her, tight and tender enough for tears to well in her eyes. 

Please don't die. Please come home safe. I'll 'never forgive you if you die. 

The words spill past her lips without her own accord. She hides her face in his chest, fisting his clothe so tight he can't let go, even as she hears Steve's voice in the distance.

Bucky begs for another two minutes. She holds her breath when his hands find her, when he squeezes her shoulders for reassurance, his tone as cautious as someone trying to tame an injured bird. She realizes how pathetic she's being then. Jerks away and furiously wipes dampness from her eyes.

She sniffles, forces a smile.

"I'm such a drama queen, sorry Buck."

"Don't' be..."

"You can go. It's okay. I have some goat cells to observe upstairs anyway", she blurts. 

Before turning around, she gathers the last tidbit of her courage to stand on her toes, put her feverish and shuddering hands on his shoulders.

Bucky tenses.

Her mouth hovers on his cheek just so before planting a resounding smack there. 

"Goodbye, James", she whispers right against his soft skin which smells like soap and clean sweat.

Then Shuri pulls away, catches how utterly _confused_ he is before she springs for the porch and climbs the stairs fast enough for her mother to scold after her.

A few moments later, back in the solace of her bedroom, her heartbeat rings loud as she watches Bucky slide in the car. Not without throwing a last bewildered gaze at Shuri's house. 

Her forehead finds the glass and she stares as the engine starts. Stares until the car turns into a small point in the distance. 

She hurts so much she cannot cry anymore, and tries to mend the pieces of her broken heart by grabbing the plush raccoon that sits still beside her pillows.


	11. Longing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, I'd like to thank every reader who took the time to comment on this story. Your feedback is one of the fuels that make me want to give closure to these characters and this story. Y'all are so nice with me. Thank you <3
> 
> Hopefully, you'll enjoy this shorter chapter.
> 
> (Excuse the typos as well, I'll go back to this shortly to edit better.)

For all the buildup that leads to it, Bucky’s first phone call after starting basic training lasts a rough 30 seconds. Just enough time for Shuri to hear him spit out a mailing address which sounds like a whole equation. One that she barks back at both their mothers in the stillness of the Barnes’s kitchen with equal passion, her body torn between excitement and frustration. 

It’s only when she hears the dial tone again that she realizes Bucky just _cut her off_. For the first time in the history of their friendship. 

No goodbye, no sugarpie.

It’s a testament to how kind Bucky’s mother is that she let Shuri talk to Bucky first so she ignores the instinct to whine and huff like her inner petulant child commands. She hands the phone back to Winnie before sitting down again, crossing her arms briefly then letting her palms fall onto her lap after meeting her mother’s gaze.

There’s so much more she wants say to Bucky. So much more she wants to know. 

_Are they treating him well ? Did he make friends already ? What time does he wake up in the mornings ? And more importantly, is he as army ugly as he dreaded with his hair buzzed ?_

He’s only been gone for three days but it feels like a lifetime already. 

“I suppose my son is alright then”, Winnie says, putting away her phone, offering Shuri a contrite smile. 

Shuri nods and forces herself to swallow down the disappointment. Her entire nerves are lit with the wound of the offense. Bucky never hung up on her before. Ever.

Ramonda picks up the loose leaf where the Fort Jackson address is scribbled. Four lines which are already printed in Shuri’s mind. 

“Guess it’s time to build our stack of stamps and envelopes again”, she smiles.

Shuri shrugs. She’s got her own secret stash already. Orange vanilla scented and everything. But he doesn’t deserve those right now. She’s so miffed that she’s ready to send him letters that smell like old socks. Or something worse like dead fish.

She picks apart her spice cake more than she eats it, mumbling her way through the conversation going on about care packages and teenage boys’s appalling hygiene habits. 

Her mother plants a resounding kiss on her temple before leaving to take her afternoon shift. Shuri hovers by enough to help Winnie with the dishes. 

She absent-mindedly wipes off a dessert plate when Bucky’s mother enquires about admission processes and high schools. 

“I’m not sure. Essex is only two hours away and they got a nice STEM program…”

“Seems like there’s a ‘but’ in there somewhere”, Winnie says, eyes twinkling with mischief when she looks back to Shuri. 

It takes her a little aback, how well Bucky’s mother is doing in her son’s absence. She knows he was a little wary about her living mostly on her own. But she’s doing good, incredibly so, and she even has job prospects such as giving a helping hand to the local nursing home. Something about art therapy classes. 

She gets lulled by the steady flow of the water for a minute before recollecting her thoughts. Winnie is not wrong. Essex is a safe choice. Close enough that she’ll get to see her mother every weekend. But it doesn’t make her heart beat nearly as fast as the North Carolina School of Mathematics and Science does. 

And if she’s being honest, she’s also a little scared of spreading her wings.

“Nice sounds a little lukewarm”, Winnie adds, “I think you should strive for _great_.”

Shuri gives a lopsided grin.

“Or _better_.”

“Exactly. Anything but nice. You have the potential to become a legend in Vermont and beyond so you must choose your next school wisely.”

The compliment makes Shuri’s extremities tingle with pleasure. She squares her shoulders, picking up another plate to wipe its edge with enthusiasm.

“You’re saying that just to butter me up, aren’t you”, she huffs.

Winnie shakes her head no. “There’s no empty compliments going on in the Barnes household, sweetheart. Bucky says you’re a genius and I trust my son’s judgement more than anyone else. And in hindsight, there’s a reason why he always aced his algebra exams after babysitting you. ”

Shuri almost drops the plate at that.

*

*

*

*

When Old Stan offered her group of friends to make some money by harvesting grapes on the Van Dyne’s estate, Shuri genuinely thought it would be a piece of cake. Nothing really tough about picking grapes, right ?

But the afternoon finds her stooping and gritting her teeth at leg cramps combined with the blistering heat. On top of that, she’s paired with Peter who seems to be having the time of his life, whistling jaunty rhymes after jaunty rhymes that make her ears bleed internally. 

She winces when her pruning shears make another cut in her protective gloves. A look on her far right makes her realize the rest of the crew is distancing them again. Even MJ and Ned. 

She brushes sweat off her forehead with a pitiful whine. It’s so freaking hot her baseball cap itches. 

“ _Crap_. Where’s the water bottle ?”

Plastic crashes on the ground the minute after she raises the question. As always, MJ’s aim is impeccable. Shuri doesn’t even have enough strength to say thanks just yet. She gulps down the worth of three glasses of water before rolling the bottle ahead and looking around endless rows of vines. 

“Look at MJ throwing plastic around now”, Peter says, raising his voice so his friend hears him loud and clear, “Thought you cared about our local ecosystem better than that, Jones !”

“Oh sorry. I’ll throw it on your child labor looking ass next time !”, MJ snides, which makes a few other adults in the line chuckle. 

Shuri rolls her eyes at their antics. “We better hurry the fuck up before they start another row.”

“Relax, Shur. We’re doing fine.”

She reluctantly smiles then, making up her mind. If she’s bound to slaving her way in a vineyard and getting scratches all over her arms, she better get a little entertainment out of it. 

“So…”, she says, lowering her voice, “How did operation ‘Get the girl’ go ?”

Peter stiffens for a split second, eyes searching for MJ’s figure as if by second nature. He shrugs then.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t do anything, you dork.”

“ _Shut up_. It's none of your business.”

Shuri lifts a skeptical brow, turning her focus back to filling her basket with more grapes, plucking leaves out of it as she goes.

“If you don’t act on your crush soon, she’s gonna swim through the mesh of the net.”

Peter snorts.”Did you just compare MJ to a salmon ?”

“Don’t deflect, nerd. Just tell her how you feel.”

“It’s not so easy. And you can talk. Did you tell Barnes how you feel about him ?”

Now it’s her turn to freeze. She barely meets Peter’s eyes, inspired to pick three bunches of grapes at once. 

“Yeah. That’s what I thought”, Peter deadpans. 

Shuri deliberately slows the pace, feeling the usual, unpleasant stab at her chest at the thought of Bucky, and soon after, that familiar tingle of anticipation at the idea of meeting him again. 

She misses him with every atom of her existence. 

“Can’t compare. Bucky doesn’t look at me like that. He sees me as a kid.”

“You _are_ a kid.”

She holds up her shears as a threat. Peter holds his hands up as if it were a gun.

“You know what I mean,duh. Bucky doesn’t look at me the way MJ looks at you.”

Peter tilts his head, his curiosity obviously piqued. 

“She looks at me…?”

Shuri giggles at his open expression, and points with her chin at MJ’s direction. It’s short lived but her friend startles, gazing away from Peter’s form with a sheepish face.

The teenage boy stares longingly then. Only the promise of Old Stan’s looming figure breathing down his neck gets him out of his trance.

“Shuri”, he says while they painstakingly come down a slope at the end of the day. 

Shuri stills, looking past her shoulder at him. He stumbles as he joins her. 

“What ?”

“It’s about Barnes. He looks at you too, you know.”

Her first instinct is to call Peter out on his bullshit. No need to lie just to make her feel good about herself. She can build her confidence on her own. 

She grounds her jaw as he goes on and gives her a half smile.

“No joke, I swear. He looks at you. I mean, he _did_ look at you. When he was still here.”

“What the hell do you mean ?

Peter gives a long suffering sigh, and takes off his straw hat. Offers to empty Shuri’s basket in one of the tanks that pepper the pathway.

Shuri gets his struggle. None of them is a wordsmith when it comes to this. Vocalizing one’s feelings. Being truthful to their heart. Science is simpler.

“Nothing dirty about it, just so you know. It’s just that Barnes looked out for you. When you weren’t looking, he had this...expression on his face. I dunno what to call it, man.”

Her heartbeat picks up speed then. She tightens her hold of the empty basket he gives back, a lump in her throat.

“What did it look like…?”, she asks earnestly, biting her lip as she awaits the answer.

Peter frowns, running a hand through his sandy brown hair that sticks everywhere now he’s taken off his hat. 

He looks very careful with his answer. Shuri sets her mouth in her hard line, and taps her foot in impatience.

“ _Adoration_.”

*

*

*

*

It takes another week before she gets to hear Bucky’s voice again. 

In the meantime, she gathers enough courage to share her wish to pursue her education in North Carolina. A state where she knows no one, not a single soul, but a place where some of her idols have pursued their education. The School of Mathematics and Science will allow her to follow her dream of entering the legendary Siemens competition. 

She gathers so much data before cornering her mother in the living room, blowing out a breath at the weight of the paper whiteboard stand she carried out of her bedroom. She doesn’t mind that her mother’s boyfriend Wong is there. 

She could use some emotional support if her presentation goes wrong. 

“I won’t be too long”, she splutters as Wong alleviates her pain by taking the whiteboard from her hands.

“ _Shuri, what’s going on_?”, her mother says in languid Xhosa.

Shuri knows Ramonda must be tired. There’s been talk of toddlers throwing up at the practice and elders refusing to take their medication. She even caught Wong giving her mother a shoulder massage an hour earlier. But she might never find her courage again if she stops now. 

“I swear I won’t be long. Just hear me out for a few minutes, okay…?”

Ramonda tilts her head in confusion but nods still. Shuri waits for Wong to take a seat next to her mother. His almond eyes are shining with something like mirth, as if he knew exactly what is going to happen. Ramonda presses up against him. 

Shuri’s audience looks expectant albeit a little confused. She inhales a sharp breath.

Her brain is faster than her tongue so her thoughts jumble out of her mouth uncoordinated. Wong’s encouraging nods and Ramonda’s warm gaze build her confidence a little until she stops grasping her hands and starts moving them about excitedly. She talks numbers and dramatic careers and amazing courses. Grassy areas beside the math department. Robotics possibilities. 

“We don’t get any class rank in this school, mama. I know you don’t like me being too competitive. There’s dorms and everything needed to live comfortably here. I know it’s so far from home but it would only be for two years. Which means I’ll still be in Vermont with you for my freshman year.”

Silence.

She rubs her hands on her thighs in trepidation. 

A slight nod from Ramonda is all it takes for her heart to thud hard. Then her mother stands up. Shuri meets her halfway to embrace her in a heartfelt hug.

“ _You did it, sithandwa_. I’m so proud of you…”

Shuri fights back the mist in her eyes, shutting them as Ramonda’s gentle fingers rake through her hair.

“H-How ? You already knew…”

“Of course I did, dearest. You can’t hide anything from me. I’m so happy you’re comfortable with sharing your dreams with me again.”

Shuri takes in the look of pride that makes Ramonda’s features glow.

“I haven’t succeeded yet”, she says, giving a sheepish smile after squeezing her mother tight one last time. 

“You’re my little genius. It’s only a matter of time”, she says, cupping her daughter's chin.

“I concur. I’m sure you have a bright future ahead of you, Shuri”, Wong approves. 

Shuri wonders how her chest can contain all this love and warmth then. It feels so tight it’s a miracle she’s not floating away like a hot air balloon with the weight of it. Her mother’s love covers her like a blanket but makes her feel light all the same. Always.

Wong gingerly draws close to shake hands with her. Shuri is so excited she swats his hand away to give him a tight hug as well, which brings a deep belly laugh from him. 

The ringing of the phone in her bedroom is the only thing that breaks the mood and makes Shuri squints. She releases Wong with a sorry sigh. Maybe it will stop ringing if she stays. They can always leave a message. 

Except whoever is at the other end of the line seems relentless and her ears start ringing in rhythm. 

“You should go, young lady. It seems urgent”, Wong says, repressing a smile at Shuri’s petulant pout. 

She’s a little out of breath once she’s at the top of the staircase, and makes a mental note to become more athletic before coming back to school. Her tone is a little more abrupt than intended when she picks up her clear plastic phone. 

“ _Helloooo_.”

“Hey, sugarpie”

And just like that, the sound of that low, careful voice melts her brattiness away. Her breathing quickens, and she holds onto the phone tight, fingertips tingling with pleasure. 

“Bucky…”

“This is gonna make me sound like a douche but we’ve only got 3 minutes, okay ? And I’m not sure if I’ll get more time on the phone anytime soon, sorry.”

Shuri nods eagerly, and conjures her mind to come up with fun topics to ease his mind off whatever weighs on his spirit. Because Bucky sounds exhausted.

“ _Okay, I got you_ ”, she replies matter-of-factly. 

He chuckles on the other end and her heart _soars_. That sound - she wants to bottle it up and drink from it until she’s delirious with it. 

There’s so much more she wants to say but she settles for something lighthearted. Surely, there will be plenty other occasions for them to talk again. _There has to_. 

“Tell me, Buck. Are you army ugly already ?”

Another chuckle and a fond exasperated sigh. 

“The only thing I’ll disclose is that I wouldn’t mind living mirror free for the rest of my training.”

“It can’t be that bad, Buck.”

“Ever tried acting tough while looking like the bootcamp version of Charlie Brown ?”

Shuri giggles from her heart then sobers while thinking about the clock ticking. 

“How much time is left ?”

“One minute and 45 seconds.”

She squeals like a mouse. Bites her nails. Thanks God for Bucky not being able to see her watery eyes.

“This is too short. I don’t know what to say-”

“You could always say you miss me and life is so boring without me”, Bucky snarks with a mock devilish laugh. 

“Don’t flatter yourself. I’m having a lot of fun”, she gruffs. 

“It’s a joke, sugarpie. _Lighten up_. Oh, there’s only 60 seconds left.”

Her heart slams to a standstill. This is so cruel. Why call her only to toy with her emotions ? 

“Send a picture of your buzz cut, Charlie Brown”, she says, forcing a smile while cocking her head.

“It will snow in hell first.”

“Duh, you’re so boring.”

Bucky sighs. She knows he wants to fight the statement but there’s not nearly enough time left. 

“Take care, sugarpie. I miss you, good-

“ _Don’t_ ”, she breathes, feeling the acute sting of fear spread through her bones. She can’t hear him say that. Not again. She’ll crumble if he does. 

She doesn’t want to hear him say goodbye. Wonders if he can even hear the tremolos in her voice right now. 

“Write me a letter or two when you have the time. I still want to know what’s going on in that gigantic brain, okay ?”

He says the words so softly, so reverently she feels his voice vibrate in her chest. She thinks of Peter’s words then.

 _Adoration_.

The phone clicks before Shuri can vow to write as many letters as humanly possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bear with your goblin author. There's only two chapters left before the end. Both are outlined. Chapter 12 will see a three year time jump. Chapter 13 is the big reunion epilogue.
> 
> As always, your comments feed the muse.


	12. Epiphany

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Rumlow said those disgusting things about her, Bucky didn’t fight for her honor only. He felt a genuine, out-of-place sort of possessiveness at the idea of her with another man. An irascible desire to hunt down whoever would try to touch a single braid on her head. And he doesn’t know for the life of him where it all comes from.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's to the one and only Bucky POV you'll get in this story. This segment happens three years after chapter 11.
> 
> Hope you'll enjoy the read as usual.

_Afghanistan, Kandahar province, 2003_

  
  


There’s a deceptive thing about the desert. It can get fucking cold. A hard learned lesson Bucky experienced since his first blizzard on the base, three years ago. The temperature plummets at night, and he almost misses thick and hazy air everytime it happens. 

The tent makes a soft-walled shelter against the cold. A small, coveted ticket out of hell, if you get past sharing your living space with 30 snoring dudes, and manage to block out the roar of fighter jets outside. When it comes to noise, Arthur “Drax’ Douglas is the worst, which is ironic considering how stingy he is with his words during the day. Needless to say, Bucky rarely gets a restful night, whether he sleeps on the dirt or an army cot. 

He’s not desperate about dozing off though. Not tonight. 

He’s afraid that if he shuts his eyes, his mind would rewind disturbing pictures of blood, snapping bones and fire. 

He would never say so out loud, because he doesn't wanna burden Shuri with his inner struggles, but she keeps him sane whenever he has the time to talk. More than any foolish entertainment his army buddies can come up with in between patrols and combat. 

It’s on the tip of her tongue sometimes to ask him about the brunt of the work, like the little adrenaline junkie she is. Though Bucky doesn’t give her anything to chew on. Just small anecdotes of his annoying teammates. Men he wants to strangle on a daily basis but men for whom he’d take a bullet anytime. 

He complains about the weather and the dust that sticks to every piece of gear. He tells her how disgusting army food is and how he misses pecan pumpkin pancakes and Waffle Crisps so much his diet will mostly consist of those when he comes home. His only silver lining is the occasional taste of Shawarma and the thick flavor of milk chai tea. All the more reason to look forward to visiting the elders in the villages.

In return, Shuri tells him stories about her elite school in North Carolina. The unfamous STEM competition she’s working on with a classmate and friend. The research she’s so passionate about. Something about gold nanoparticles and their potential use to detect cancer. 

It’s an unspoken promise. A tacit agreement in which they ignore the vast gulf between them. Shuri pretends she’s okay with a war she thinks is a political farce and deception. Bucky pretends he’s fine with getting shot at occasionally. Reassures his conscience. He’s on the side of the good guys. Gets involved in building schools in the villages surrounding the base. Setting up field hospitals to provide medical aid.

He willingly forgets about the politics of it. How the troops are a target for an ambush everytime they leave the base so putting themselves out there is a call for fight in itself. Because he’s not ready to admit to himself he wasn’t ready for any of this and he has no idea if he’s ever gonna make it home in one piece. If he ever makes it at all.

He simply does the best he can with the cards he’s dealing with. Try to get through each fucking day. 

Bucky realizes how much Shuri has grown then, containing her silver tongue just for the sake of his morale. 

* * *

“ _Buck_ ?” 

A light sound reaches him from her end of the line. Probably the subdued hush of her blanket. 

“Am I boring you ?”, she teases. 

Bucky shakes his head, and looks around the near empty tent of the USO. Sneaking in there at 5 am is the only way he has to have reliable communication with home. And he gets 15 minutes of chatting instead of 10 whenever he breaks the rules.

“Sorry. I’m feelin’ a little tired here.”

“ _Old man_ ”, she snarks.

She’s not far from the truth. He can see it in the mirror when he shaves in the warm morning sun. He looks older now. Older than twenty one.

“Brat”, he bites back with a smile, “How’s your research doing ? And is your friend okay with you doing all that noise at night ?”

Shuri huffs a brazen laugh. “Kamala isn’t here. She’s spending the night at her boyfriend’s.”

He raises brows. Shuri would often recount her friend’s dilemma between following her muslim family’s traditions and pushing back her limits as the american teenager she is. 

It seems the choice has been made.

“And you’re staying in ?”, he taunts,”That’s so uncool...”

“ _Shut up_. How much time ?”

He glances at the clock. “Eight minutes.”

She yawns and he finds the sound adorable. Suppresses a smile as if she could see him. 

“Tell me about you”, she says.

“You know I can’t disclose anything that could jeopardize-”

“Blablablah. Yeah, I know that song. I’m not asking about the army, Buck.”

Bucky frowns. “Then what ?”

Shuri gives a long suffering sigh then.

“Tell me about your worries. Your dreams. Anything…”

And it strikes him hard somehow. Like a punch to the plexus. The reminder of him being an individual when he’s become so used to breathe, live, eat, fight as a unit. 

“For example, what’s the first thing you’d like to eat when you come home ? And you can’t say Waffle Crisps. I don’t wanna see your ass die of a diabetic shock after surviving Afghanistan.”

Bucky stays silent longer than necessary. He judges more prudent not to remind her nothing is certain and life is fleeting. 

Before he can say anything, Shuri is already ranting about unhealthy diets and the latest episode of _America’s Next Top Model,_ which makes him feel even more ancient and alien than usual. 

“I’ll make you a list of all the things you’re missing out on so you can catch up in the future. Count on me.”

He chuckles at her determination. “You should go to sleep.”

“Bucky, I’m seventeen not seven. I can pull an all nighter if I want to.”

“It doesn’t mean you should though.”

“Can’t believe you’re still trying to babysit me from the desert.”

In normal circumstances, he would have gently pinched her sides for that cheek. He has to settle for briefly shaking his head for now.

“You get away with way too much, sugarpie.”

“ _Please_. There’s worse things I could do at my age.”

“Such as ?”

“Drugs. Alcohol. Speed driving.”

“Come on, you don’t even have a license yet.”

“Getting knocked up.”

“Wh- _What_ ?"

Bucky suddenly has a very dry mouth. He blinks repeatedly, brain whirring at the implications behind her words.

“Did you just- ? Okay. Let’s conveniently forget about that.”

“You’ve been trained to kill people at point-blank range. You have no right to clutch your pearls when sex is mentioned.”

Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose, feeling the first bites of a headache creeping in.

“I’m sure you talk about it with your buddies all the time though”

“Actually we don’t. There’s much more urgent priorities like staying alive when you’re on the front lines.”

That’s a lie. _A big fat one_. Quill was complaining about having to sleep with his rifle as if it were a woman no later than the morning before, which eventually brought the entire squad to recount their kinkiest times between the sheets. Or at the back of a diner’s bathroom in Rumlow’s case. 

Bucky himself keeps a fond memory of Sharon riding him to filth in his truck after an afternoon shift at the garage. But he didn’t join in the ruckus. If Sharon ever found out about him running his mouth, she’d probably slap him into the afterlife. Drax put an end to the fun by showing everyone pictures of his five kids anyway. 

Shuri doesn’t call him on his bluff. 

“There’s one minute and fifteen seconds left”, he says.

“I do want it. Sometimes”, she breathes, sounding more meek and innocent than ever. 

He hates that blood flushes to his face then.

“Shuri…”

“I’m not putting myself in danger or anything, relax. I’m...prepared. Should anything happen.”

Bucky has difficulty swallowing. His heart beats twice as fast, without him sketching the slightest movement. 

“And I dream about someone making love to me someday”, she whispers.

It’s all he can do not to choke on his saliva as the tell tale click of the phone signals the end of their communication.

* * *

He doesn’t recognize himself after the call. 

His army buddies don’t recognize him either. He’s on edge, patience running thin, barking at the slightest mistake and chasing after the weakest link of the group just to have the opportunity to bark some more. 

And there’s always something. 

The sun that fucking beats down constantly. The mediocre ass reception on the radio which makes them hurry up and wait and run like idiots all over again. Quill grating on his nerves by whistling a disco tune while they patrol in the mountains. Banner recounting out historical facts about centuries old settlements and -

“Could you guys, _maybe_ , take that patrolling mission seriously ?”, he gruffs.

“Are you actually asking me to shut the fuck up, Barnes ?”, Quill bites back.

Bucky grunts and ups the pace to the dismay of Armeen, a young Afghan soldier who volunteered to get trained by the US troops. The poor boy almost trips in his haste to keep up with Bucky, muttering words in Dari with palpable irritation.

“I’m just asking you to do your job and stay alert.”

There’s snickering from behind him, probably Rumlow who always feasts on the smallest fight. 

Bucky supposes Steve would have dealt with this better him. He was a better team leader. But Steve came back home in a coffin way too soon, and the absence of his best friend, who made him a little more eager to join the army, hits Bucky hard all of a sudden. 

“We either succeed or we die. Some of you are getting way too complacent.”

“ _It’s been six months_ ”, Rumlow counters, mouth twitching, “If there was anything to fear in the mountains, we’d knew by now. All the fun fight is happening in Kabul. This clearing patrol is a goddamn joke and we should take it for what it is : a healthy walk for our sore joints.”

Bucky stops in his tracks then looks past his shoulder at Rumlow who raises a brow defiantly. The air shifts and thickens even more.

“What ? Don’t tell me y’all enlisted to build schools and make friendship bracelets with illiterate kids ? Cause that ain’t me”, Rumlow adds, ignoring the flare of Bucky’s nostrils and the merciless resolution in each step he takes.

“Brock”, Quill says in warning, though he doesn’t move an inch.

“Some soldiers are playing chess while we’re stuck here playing little horses. _This is supposed to be war_.”

“Shut up. Shut the fuck up”, Bucky growls. 

Banner draws close to put his palm on his shoulder but Bucky yanks his arm out the way. 

“Watch it, Rumlow. Your disgusting penchant for racism is showing.”

“Oh please, Barnes. Don’t pull the good ole white knight card on me. You know damn well those kids don’t have a library home when they can barely feed themselves. If I wanted to do humanitarian aid, I’d join UNICEF. We’re the fucking US army. We’re _supposed_ to fight terror with terror.”

He looks around, and Bucky is ashamed to find some of his squad nodding.

“Wise words”, he grits, “I’m sure the Afghans would love trying to grow crops on a graveyard once we’re done.”

It’s subconscious, the way Bucky’s grip tightens on his rifle, but Rumlow notices. Everyone else does. Rumlow cocks his head then. Bucky is dying to wipe that fucking smirk off his face.

“This isn’t about what’s right, isn’t it ? It’s something else. _Oh_ . _You’re scared_. Scared that this is all for nothing and you’re wasting your juvenile years here in the middle of nowhere. Without any heroic accomplishments for your name.”

He hates that Rumlow struck perfectly right. But he doesn’t have the time to retaliate because the other man’s poison gets more insidious as he leans in, and practically sing songs the words in Bucky’s ear:

“Scared of losing that precious little friend of yours. To another man perhaps. Wouldn’t that be the biggest cuckold to happen ? Caring for her and protecting her all these years for her to go behind your back and fuck someone else-”

Bucky can’t help it this time. His fist meets Rumlow’s jaw with a hard thump. And he doesn’t stop there. The other man may be bigger, throwing back punches that almost make Bucky dizzy with pain but he’s still younger and quicker.

Rumlow is on the ground, and Bucky is trying to throw another hard hit still when someone grips him by the fucking neck and shouts in his face.

* * *

As expected, news travels fast and it’s not long before the entire base has knowledge of whatever unfolded between Rumlow and him. Of course, the offense isn’t serious enough to unleash Court Martial level action, but the Commander-in-chief still busts Bucky’s ears open about it, and he finds himself on Porta-Johns cleaning duty until further notice. As if pumping human discharge out their drains was in any way educational, and Bucky could effectively re-learn the value of team spirit after accomplishing his newfound chores. 

Not only does he feel even more clammed up when he returns to the tent, but he’s also smelly too. He still has enough of a childish bone in him that he takes his time hovering around his footlocker on purpose. The smell eventually gets so bad Quill throws baby wipes at his head. 

He dwells on Rumlow’s words for a long time after he’s finished showering. The part about him wasting his years. And then there is Shuri. When Rumlow said those disgusting things about her, Bucky didn’t fight for her honor only. He felt a genuine, out-of-place sort of possessiveness at the idea of her with another man. An irascible desire to hunt down whoever would try to touch a single braid on her head. And he doesn’t know for the life of him where it all comes from. 

Is it all protectiveness ? The kind of male ego that makes brothers and fathers thrust out their chests, threatening to welcome potential suitors with shotguns. 

After all, Shuri is his precious sugarpie. His childhood friend. The baby sister he never had. The annoying, smout-marthed kid he used to to hate babysitting because she was so much smarter than him. Until she started correcting his homework in his back, and he taught her how to fend off her bullies as a way of thanks. 

It’s not like him to act as impulsive and blood headed as he did in the afternoon. He doesn’t like that caveman version of himself, he muses as he touches the cuts peppering his sore cheekbones. The desert heat must be roasting his brain. He hopes his night guard duty with Armeen helps him cool down and reign on his emotions. He drains down a sorry excuse of a tortilla with tepid coffee before making his way to the barracks, and frowns when he meets Rumlow at the entrance instead of his Afghan friend.

“Don’t gimme that face. You broke my damn nose”, Rumlow spits, arms crossed over his broad chest. Turning on his heel as soon as Bucy draws closer. 

“It was already broken. And you earned it”, Bucky mutters, following suite for their nightly duties.

Rumlow shrugs. “I did you a favor.”

“By insulting my childhood friend ?”

“ _Man, you’re so fucking slow_ ”, the other man whines.

They don’t discuss the subject for the following two hours, eyes and ears perking as they monitor the traffic incoming and outgoing into the barracks. Keep themselves alert by performing radio checks with a few other battalions.

Rumlow breaks another tense silence between them by bringing the subject of contention back to the table. 

“Did you finally get it ?”

“Get what ?”

“The reason why you’re so pent up. Over your precious little sweetheart back home.”

Bucky furrows his brows, absent-mindedly running his fingers over his dog tags.

“You’re getting the wrong idea.”

“ _Please_. I overheard your conversation this morning. You ain’t foolin me with your big brother act.”

“Cause you’re incapable of maintaining any relationship with a girl that doesn’t involve getting your dick wet ?”

Rumlow barks in laughter, and puts his feet on the desk they’re sitting behind with complete nonchalance, looking mighty relaxed for a man with a bandaged nose. 

“Maybe. But I like to think I’m something of a romantic myself.”

This time, it’s Bucky’s turn to chuckle. Rumlow is to romance what throwing a grenade is to peace. 

“I know what I’m talkin about. I have a little sister back home too”, the other man adds.

“ _Poor thing_ ”, Bucky deadpans.

“And you don’t see me waking up every other day at 5 am just to talk to my little sister. Or anyone else for that matter. Tell me, how many times have you re-read that girl’s letters ? Or stared at her photographs ?”

Bucky grounds his jaw, staring far ahead at the barren land interspersed by military green tents. 

The dust swirls endlessly, even at dusk. The air smells of fuel and combat boots. He feels a wave of anger burning in his chest.

His stomach churns at the image of Shuri acting as foolish and careless as he did when he was her age. He tells himself it’s because he doesn’t want her to get used. He knows what boys are after at that age. Fun without consequences.

And if he’s honest with himself, he doesn’t wanna lose that pedestal she put him on. He feeds on her puppy crush on him in so many ways. 

“I don’t want her to get hurt”, he says after a long time.

Rumlow snickers. “Are you sure that’s your only motivation here, buddy ?”

Bucky ignores him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you think Bucky will get it someday ?  
> Anywho, I've written so much that I'm gonna have to add another chapter in for Shuri's POV in high school, sorry not sorry my good pals.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for giving this story a go 💖  
> And please, tell me what you think in the comment section. Raspberry red is my baby.


End file.
